


In Your Court

by RescueSatellite



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: A little Marinino for the soul, F/M, Fluff, Frenemies to Partners to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Gotta fuel the angst, Ladybug works alone, Minor Character Death, Oh no!, Sidekick Adrien, Sidekick!Adrien au, Slow Burn, until she doesn't
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2018-08-15 06:45:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 78,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8046313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RescueSatellite/pseuds/RescueSatellite
Summary: Ladybug has been a lone wolf for years, until a mysterious presence begins to help her fight the akuma she's always battled alone. Marinette always thought she was a mess in front of men, until she met Adrien Agreste.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is literally an excuse to write curse words and eventually sin. So like, if you're not into that, tread no further. Because I'm a hot mess and you don't wanna be dragged into this.
> 
> Edit: HOLY SHITS 2000 HITS! Thank you all so much for your support
> 
> Based off of the AU by geek-fashionista.tumblr.com

"I'm going to die. Oh my god, Alya, I'm literally going to die." 

Marinette clutched her short raven hair between her fingers, pulling dramatically as she walked away from the bar. She hid her face as much as she could from the man she had just finished speaking with, trying to pretend the moment had never happened. 

The bar was well-lit and filled with people and noise. Clinking glasses, laughing patrons, and an air of collective buzz hung around the joint that could be a family establishment of it didn't attract so many college students. The pool tables along the back wall were constantly filled, but the same couldn't be said for the beer glasses, which sloppy college jocks demanded more and more of as they got increasingly handsy. 

Despite the other customers, it was the favorite spot for Marinette and her best friend, who insisted they come on a regular basis. It might be the fact that college students such as themselves got a twenty percent discount for every drink they ordered, capping out at five of course. Things didn't need to get too rough. But it also might have been that it was also the favorite of a certain college boy that Alya had her sights firmly set on. 

Marinette didn't see the appeal. Blond guys never really did it for her. Every blond guy she had ever dated had turned out to be a player or a jack ass. Or both. The sight of the moody anime sen pai reject that frequented the last stool at the bar, in the darkest corner under a flickering lamp just so he could appear all the more mysterious, left a bad taste in Marinette's mouth. 

But her friend's obsession with the boy did not stop her from making the most of her nights there. Which often led her to try picking up a guy or two so she wouldn't be bored as Alya drooled, at the very same girl's insistence. Which often led to we sticking her foot in her mouth and making the biggest ass of herself she could. 

Which led to that moment in particular, when Marinette had approached a guy at the bar who was getting more beers for his group, at Alya's urging. 

It was always at Alya's urging. 

She had done the casual flirty side-eye that Alya had practiced with her so much. He didn't seem to notice or care, so she moved on. She had mastered the coy hair flip as she waved the bartender over. But still the guy seemed oblivious to her existence. And she was about to go in for the proverbial kill and actually make contact, when she noticed that the guy in question wasn't the guy she had been eyeing from across the bar. 

In fact, this very same gentleman happened to be her political science professor, who made it clear on several accounts to never contact him outside of class. The very same professor who decided that he would make it his personal mission to make life hell for his students in any way he could. The very same professor who was renowned throughout the kingdom to pick apart the attendees of his class until they cried. 

And Marinette had her hand in the air, inches from the man's shoulder, and, keeping in the spirit of foot-in-mouthedness, froze, eyes wide, mouth open to begin flirting. With her professor. 

She didn't get the chance to start flirting, thankfully, because he turned to get his wallet from his pocket and spotted her standing there like an idiot. He glanced up from his business and eyed her as her body refused to move, stuck like a zombie in a wax museum, ready to be observed and scrutinized by prying eyes. 

"Marinette." he said matter of factly, as if it were his duty to make contact and he took absolutely no pleasure in it. Which, if his platitudes in class told her anything, he did not. 

Thank the good lord he did though, because she finally broke from her trance and was able to put down the hand that was floating between them, making the situation even more awkward than it already was. She closed her gaping mouth and plastered a smile on her face, though it was filled with fear and regret.

"Professor!" she exclaimed. She was doing so well! She waved her hands in the air like some mad man, and fished for a subject to come into her head. Words. Any word. Dear lord, say something. "Fancy meeting you here!"

The bartender set down four beers on the wooden bar, condensation making streaks as they slid toward the professor. He acknowledged the bartender with payment, exact change most likely, and returned his attention, fleetingly, to Marinette.

"Yes." He grabbed the beers in two hands and made a slight 'cheers' motion without any mirth that the gesture implied. "Fancy." He walked away with his beers, sipping heavily from one of them, and returned to his group. 

Which led Marinette to this:

"I'm literally going to die. Please, dear baby Jesus, please smite me with your wrath and end my time on this earth."

Alya, of course, had seen the whole thing. She knew everything that Marinette did, even sometimes before it happened. It was the journalist in her. 

But instead of the look of sheer terror and shock in her face, her bright eyes held the glee of a thousand little girls on their birthdays. 

Who all got puppies. 

With bow ties. 

"Oh my god. That just happened." Her mouth hung open to form the widest smile in human history. 

"Alya, that just happened. Kill me." Marinette collapsed onto the dirty bar table, hiding her face in the sanctuary of her arms. She wished her hair was longer to provide another layer of protection from the teasing laughter that Alya exploded into. 

"Oh my god!" she almost yelled. "You just tried to pick up your professor at a bar! Not even a good bar!" 

"Shhhh!" Marinette leaped forward to cover the entirety of Alya's head and mouth with her body, trying to prevent the words from escaping her mouth. Alya fought hard against her, laughing with merriment and malevolence. 

"Oh my god, Marinette Dupain-Cheng!" she screeched.

"Do not use my name!" Marinette collapsed back onto the table, squirming dramatically like a salted cuddle fish. "I'm gonna die. I have to change my name and move out of the state. No, the country. I'll live in Puerto Rico. I've always liked the beach. I'll live in a secluded bungalow and call myself 'hermit John' and I'll be known as the crazy lady who lives in the bungalow on the beach." Alya laughed again, sharp and cutting. "Or I can just die. That'll work."

"Oh, my god, Marinette get up, you're making it worse." Alya shoved the girl's shoulder, and Marinette reluctantly slouched upwards, an exaggerated frown on her face. Alya flicked the pouting lip and Marinette scowled. "It's not that bad!"

"Not that bad? He's gonna make my life even more of a hell than it already is. That class is _known _for making people throw up while taking a test. What's it gonna be like now? Is he gonna throw in some advanced, unsolvable trigonometry question just to fuck with us? I hate trigonometry. I'm gonna fail the class and drop out of college and go be hermit John!" Marinette huffed out some fake sobs and Alya laughed at her some more.__

__"Don't be ridiculous. Hermit Terry is a much better name for you." That earned her a healthy glare._ _

__"I hate you."_ _

__Alya touched her fingertips to her chest and gave Marinette an affectionate look. "Oh." She faked a tear to wipe from her eye. "I love you, too."_ _

__She hit back the last dregs of whatever hard liquor she had ordered - scotch? whiskey? who knew - and stood up from the tall barstool. She ended up being exactly the same height off the seat as on it. Her hand reached out to Marinette and made grabbing gestures._ _

__"Come on. Time to go," she told her. "I've had my fill of Dude and you've had your fill of-" she gestured to the bar as a whole "-everything else. Let's go."_ _

__Marinette slung her purse over her shoulder and dragged her feet as she walked, her head still falling back with a sad clown face. "Take me away to die!"_ _

__They exited the busy, warm bar into the cold and empty streets of Paris. Marinette pulled the scarf that hung from her bag around her neck, wrapping it around four times and tucking in the end just under her chin. She huddled into the plush jacket that kept the cold at bay. It probably wasn't the warmest or most functional coat for the winter season, but it sure as hell looked cute. Beauty is pain, anyway._ _

__Alya pulled on mittens and shoved them into her pockets. The crazy girl was only wearing boots and stockings under her large coat and simple dress, and she refused to be cold. She was wearing hardly anything! Marinette had on four layers, including long underwear, fleece-lined leggings, and a wool sweater, and she was still fighting off the bitter realization that she would never find warmth again._ _

__They walked down the barren streets and watched the snow fall in front of the lights, making moving artworks as eddies in the air made the flakes dance. Marinette huddled close to Alya in the center of the sidewalk, avoiding banks of snow that grew on the sides of the concrete, where pedestrians never walked. Snow crunched under her snow-proof, wool-lined, thermal, all terrain boots that she got on sale for a hundred and ninety five dollars, and she pushed her head farther down into the scarf so her breath could warm her angry cheeks._ _

__Eventually, they had made it to Alya's car, and Marinette dove inside as soon as the doors were unlocked. She rubbed her hands over her arms as if she could feel it through the fifty layers of clothes she didn't leave the house without and waited for the car, and warm air, to start. It took the beat up old thing about three minutes to start blowing warm air, but Marinette preferred it to the cooling-only air conditioner that her car had. She swore one time it blew literal hail at her when she accidentally started the air in the cold morning._ _

__The pair sat in the stained cloth seats, rubbing various body parts together to produce heat until the air finally gave them good news. Marinette sighed in relief and pulled her scarf down to introduce warmth to her starving body. Her nose was in a perpetual state of redness during the winter, and the nose running didn't help. Blowing noses was simply a hazard in the cold months, as her nose was incredibly sensitive to anything it touched until it warmed up around August. She hated the cold._ _

__Alya revved up the engine just as both of their phones beeped. They both had crime alarms on their phones that went off whenever there was a sighting of an akuma. It was a helpful app for all those who wanted to prevent themselves from being killed by akuma attacks. It served a different purpose for the two girls. Marinette told her best friend that it was to make sure she always knew where Alya was, but she could never tell her the true reason. She had her secrets to keep._ _

__They both looked for their phones, Alya pulling hers immediately from her pocket. Her hand was probably already on it before it buzzed. Marinette dug through her -unused, thank you very much - tissue stuffed purse to find hers. Tikki rose from the white blankets to offer Marinette the blinking device. She girl smiled at her little kwami that she kept close at her side, almost slipping up and saying a thanks._ _

__Marinette closed the purse on her friend and looked at the phone, which showed an akuma attack happening across town. Alya had already begun driving by the time Marinette had read the alert._ _

__"You ready, girl? Akuma attack, here we come!" The empty streets made for an easy escape from the bar, but somehow Alya still managed to cut someone off._ _

__The attack was far away. It would take them ten, maybe fifteen minutes to make it all the way across town to where the attack was. They both knew this. It made Alya hit the gas harder. It made Marinette sick. How many people would get hurt when she wasn't there to protect them for fifteen whole minutes? It might be in a secluded area, but that didn't mean there weren't still civilians._ _

__"Alya, stop the car," she demanded. And her friend almost did, but the promise of a special scoop kept her going. A look of concern couldn't stop itself from crossing her face._ _

__"What? Why? Don't you wanna see the akuma?" Energy buzzed around the girl, her fingers white knuckled around the steering wheel. She wanted to be there before anyone else. This was her passion, after all. It always had been._ _

__But Marinette had a responsibility more important than the hobby of her best friend. It hurt to do, but she had to._ _

__"Stop the car, I'm gonna be sick!"_ _

__She had two, maybe three cocktails at the bar, but she pretended she was more of a lightweight than she was. She held her stomach and made a queazy look on her face, one hand on the door handle to jump out as quickly as possible._ _

__"What!" Alya hit the breaks hard and they came shuttering to a stop. Marinette flew out of the car and hid behind a close by mail box, grateful that the things still existed, and made some fake retching noises. "Marinette are you okay?"_ _

__Like she knew she would, Alya stayed in the car. No matter what trouble her friends were in, if it wasn't life and death, it could wait when it came to Ladybug._ _

__Marinette waved her mittened hand to her friend in the car. "Yeah, I'm fine! Just go, I'll be okay." She yelled from behind the mailbox, pretending to puke a couple more times for good measure._ _

__"You mean leave you here?" The offer sounded tempting. Alya's fingers were twitching on the trigger._ _

__"It's fine, my apartment is close. I'll just walk. Really, go!" She made herself sound sure and well enough to make grown up decisions. "I didn't want to see the akuma anyway. You know how I am." She laughed good-naturedly._ _

__"Okay, girl." There was still concern in her voice, but Alya was convinced. "Call me when you get home, okay? Take a hot shower and drink some water. You don't want a hangover!"_ _

__Marinette waved her off. "Go! I'll be fine."_ _

__Without another word, Marinette heard the car peel off, struggling to grip on the slippery pavement, but finding purchase and flying down the street. As fast as she could, she opened her purse and Tikki popped out, ready to work._ _

__"Tikki, spots on!"_ _

__The warm glow that surrounded her was quite possibly her favorite feeling. No matter how cold she was or how sick she was, the magic in the suit that hugged her body made her feel _right _. Within seconds, her entire body was covered in comforting red and black spotted leather, transforming her into Ladybug.___ _

____Her hair magically grew to the length it was when she was a teenager, forming itself into cute pigtails on either side of her neck. The signature hairstyle had become familiar to the people of Paris, and Tikki always remembered to add that touch, compete with red hair ties. Despite her becoming tired of the hairstyle, Marinette loved the feeling of them bouncing at her back when she ran across the roofs of the Parisian skyline. She loved the recognition on people's faces as they saw the famous silhouette._ _ _ _

____And just like that, she was off and running. She swung out her magical yo-yo and tied it to a tall spire across the road, pulling it taut and spiraling through the air until she caught another chimney in her snare and pulled herself toward that._ _ _ _

____She made her way across the large city as quickly as possible, springing lightly off the roofs and rolling into the air. Her yo-to worked like an extension of her body, going where she needed, when she needed. She and Tikki worked in sync to propel her to her destination in perfect time._ _ _ _

____She landed on the roof overlooking the akuma terrorizing people below. It had made it quite a long way from its original location along the river. Really, Marinette had only gone about half the length of the city, meeting the akuma in the middle, along a string of roads with empty stores and cafes. Ladybug was glad to see there were very few people about the streets on such a cold night._ _ _ _

____Nevertheless, the akuma tore through the streets like the Tasmanian devil. It swept up its own current, creating a tornado of junk around itself like a shield. Garbage flew all over the place, being drawn in to the center like a magnet. As the akuma bounced into walls and broke glass, the whirling cyclone became its own weapon in and of itself._ _ _ _

____As the tornado of trash came to a crescendo, the akuma suddenly stepped out of the vortex, allowing it to go freely along its way. The figure on the street below watched as its creation grew in size and strength as it picked up more speed and trash. They laughed heartily and began, once again, spinning in circles._ _ _ _

____"I am the Collector," the akuma screamed, calling forth into an otherwise silent night. "And you will feel the pain you have all caused me!"_ _ _ _

____It began spinning faster and faster, the took off down the street, becoming a torpedo of destruction and chaos. Marinette still watched from the sidelines, forming a plan in her mind as the akuma formed more garbage tornadoes. When the figure began disappearing down the street, past its home made cyclone, she followed closely behind, swinging through the city._ _ _ _

____The next street opened up into a plaza, large and empty and full of discarded trash. The Collector, whoever they were, became unreasonably angry at the sight of litter on the streets, and paused in its rampage to scream again to no one in particular._ _ _ _

____"You fools waste your breath on this planet! You are not fit to live if you are to exist in such squalor!" Tornadoes, several of them, began forming around the akuma. The air was pulled into the enter of gravity, as was most of the trash in the square. Windows began to shatter along buildings and in store fronts, and Ladybug decided to act. She had her plan in her mind, and she was ready to execute._ _ _ _

____"Collector!" she called, grabbing the attention of the wrathful being. "Why don't you put your garbage where your mouth is?" The akuma swirled on Ladybug as she plummeted to the ground, landing lightly and rolling toward the cover of a parked car as a tornado came hurling after her. Remnants of the shards within the vortex shattered behind her as they rammed into the wall._ _ _ _

____She came out from the cover of the car and flung her yo-yo out to the opposite side of the square. The akuma screamed at her and began hurling its trash bombs after her as she swung, avoiding them easily. The garbage was dispersed farther and farther away from where the akuma stood in the square, and Ladybug drew the cyclones further._ _ _ _

____As she landed from her swing, she saw the Collector without any more of its tornadoes, and knew the time to act was then. It began swirling its arms around to collect all trash that would come to it, but so much of it had come to attack Ladybug that it was outside the reach of the currents of air._ _ _ _

____Marinette flung her yo-yo through the sky and made her way back to where the akuma was, flying laterally around it. Her yo-yo's chord wrapped itself around the akuma's body, and she was able to pin its arms to the side of its body as she swung around it. The chord completely restrained the Collector by the time Ladybug had stopped swinging, and she was free to walk up to it._ _ _ _

____A dark purple wad of garbage was clutched in the hand of the man, and Marinette carefully took it from him. The tiny purple butterfly flitted from the cursed object as soon as it was broken, and the yo-yo was soon unwrapped from the Collector to cleans the akuma._ _ _ _

____Her talisman sent away a beautiful white butterfly into the night sky, and began cleaning the wreckage that it had wrought. Her magic flooded the city as swarms of ladybugs put back together what was broken and cleaned what needed cleaning. It was immediately back to normal, and instead of a garbage-wrapped akuma kneeling before her, there was a confused man who needed her help as much as the rest of the city._ _ _ _

____"What happened?" was always the first question to be asked, and Ladybug knelt in front of them to give them comfort. "Ladybug?" was always the second question._ _ _ _

____"Hi there. You were akumatized, but everything is all right now. I'm going to get you home, okay?" She offered him a hand and helped him get to his feet. He wobbled slightly on new found legs and leaned heavily into her. She supported him as he needed, and began walking with him to where he directed._ _ _ _

____However quick the battle was, it left Marinette exhausted. As soon as she detransformed back in her tiny apartment across from her school, she collapsed into bed. Her body was aching from the cold, and she refused to go to bed without at least three layers of blankets and five pairs of socks. She cuddled up in her bed with Tikki taking shelter under her chin, and sighed as her phone buzzed._ _ _ _

____'You alive?' Alya had texted her. The question made Marinette smile. Of course, Alya couldn't know that her friend was completely sober by this point, but it helped to know that she cared._ _ _ _

____'Still tipsy, but home and alive' Marinette offered. Her fingers were stuff as she typed, so it took longer than she had hoped. She could feel Alya's anxiety through the phone._ _ _ _

____'Good, because now you get to watch the latest Ladybug action'_ _ _ _

____Marinette would never know how the girl got things downloaded to her blog so quickly, but she got the link immediately and watched her actions that night. Truly, the videos helped her. She hated that her best friend had to go through some potentially life threatening situations to get he information that fed the videos, but they were good resources for her training._ _ _ _

____She watched her every movement as she languidly soared through the night. She never punched or kicked, but fought the akuma nonetheless, rendering it disabled within minutes. It had been a long time since she had had to use her Lucky Charm last. The special magic that her Miraculous allowed her was a sacred power that she saved for the most dire of circumstances. No adversary had been strong enough to warrant that kind of power in a comfortable amount of time. Marinette was fine with that._ _ _ _

____'Wow' Marinette responded, always giving Alya the attention she needed._ _ _ _

____'I know right! She's so cool, she doesn't even throw a punch. She barely even touches the dude!'_ _ _ _

____She was glad to see her biggest fan approved of her latest techniques. She watched Alya's rant play out on the screen of her phone. Three little bubbles had barely popped up on the screen before another response came, one right after the other. She detailed perfectly every movement of the fight that had occurred less than an hour before. It was clear that she had watched the video she had taken probably five times already, at the very least._ _ _ _

____The unrestrained enthusiasm that was constantly thrown at her from her best friend, even though she didn't know it was actually directed at the target of her affections, filled Marinette - or Ladybug - with gratitude. She always knew who turn to when she needed the comfort._ _ _ _

____'What are you gonna do with your professor tomorrow?'_ _ _ _

____It was a question that Marinette was not prepared to answer. She could hear the snickers through the phone and sighed. What had she come to._ _ _ _

____'You know what. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it'_ _ _ _

____Really, Marinette was dreading the next day. She knew she was exaggerating the interaction that she had with her professor - it really wasn't that bad - but it was another step further into the embarrassment and hardship that was her college experience. Anything that had been done to push her towards the inevitability of a bad grade in the class pushed her one step closer to insanity._ _ _ _

____Lucky for her it was just the one class. Her other professors were what she was there for. Well, maybe not her ballroom class, but she had to squeeze some fitness classes in or she wouldn't graduate. Nonetheless, it was a fun class. Her computer graphics class was easier than she had into updated, and being able to finally be able to sketch on a computer would be a life saver when she had to send designs quickly when she went professional._ _ _ _

____And her design class. That beautiful masterpiece of a class, where dreams went to come true. With an amazing teacher who sparkled when the sun hit them just right._ _ _ _

____Professor Leroy was the perfect teacher. Marinette loved the class more than she probably had any right to. She allowed herself to, though, because that was her major. This class was the entire reason that she was going to college to get her degree in fashion business - and a minor in design, she reminded herself._ _ _ _

____'You might wanna start digging your grave.'_ _ _ _

____Marientte rolled her eyes at the message._ _ _ _

____'You know, just in case.'_ _ _ _

____She typed back:_ _ _ _

____'You can go fuck yourself'_ _ _ _

____'Rude.'_ _ _ _

____Marinette giggled and clicked her phone shut. She wasn't about to spend the rest of her night texting her best friend instead of sleeping. The clock told her it was almost one in the morning, and she had classes starting at eight. She would have to get up early to get ready, and she truly was not a morning person. It didn't help that the cold stuck to the morning like a thick blanket until the sun came out to burn it away._ _ _ _

____She rolled over, being careful to keep Tikki tucked under her chin to keep warm. The little fairy was totally fine to survive in the cold, but she loved cuddling. Marinette enjoyed the physical company of the little kwami. It always felt good to know she wasn't alone in her tiny apartment._ _ _ _

____Her phone buzzed a couple more times before Alya gave up and went to sleep. Marinette turned to watch the delicate snow fall past her window as she drifted to sleep._ _ _ _


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Cuties meet and fall in love and get married. But not really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so GD long to write. I just moved into college and motivation hit zero. But this is a long ass chapter so y'all best be grateful.

Waking up and having somewhere to be was the worst feeling in the world. The alarm clock that blared beside her, the only force powerful enough to wake the sleeping beast, emitted a sound like a million cats being thrown through a jumbo jet engine. She slammed her fist onto the quiet button and emerged from the cocoon of blankets that had tangled around her legs as she slept. Her hair was a mess of knots and fly aways, there were crusty bits in the corners of her eyes, and a nice white streak of drool had dried across the side of her face. She wiped away the offensive line on her cheek and rubbed the palms of her hand into her eyes, so hard she should have gone blind. 

The air was freezing cold outside of her nest of blankets, and even the thought of emerging from the beautiful creation of hers made her cringe. But, unfortunately, she had things to do that day, and they weren’t going to do themselves. 

Her classes started cruelly early in the mornings. Her alarm clock read five o’clock. She had been asleep for four hours, tops. Her head ached with the slightest touch of hangover. 

Ugh. She knew she shouldn’t have gone out last night. 

Sleepily, she made her way through her morning routine. She hopped into the shower and made it as hot as possible, making sure to keep out of the way of the freezing cold water that shot out of the pipes if you didn’t let them warm up first. She washed her hair and brushed her teeth and shaved her legs, taking special care to avoid the bruises that she had gotten from running into a table the day before. 

Stupid coffee tables don’t even have the common decency to have rounded edges. 

When she got out of the shower, she dried off as quickly as possible. The last time she forgot to dry off, her hair had turned to popsicles as soon as she stepped outside. She would not be repeating that mistake again. Her phone beeped out a message at her, and she glanced down. 

Here, the message read. 

Fuck. It was from Alya, her ride every morning. How that girl got up so early every day and went to bed so late every night, Marinette would never know. Honestly, it was like some kind of superpower. She laughed to herself and typed out a message for the girl waiting outside. 

Gimme five.

She ran across the little apartment she could barely afford and began pulling on clothes as she saw them. Her phone buzzed again. 

I’ll give you three. 

She rolled her eyes at her best friend. Of course. What else could she expect from the girl who scheduled her bathroom breaks down to the minute?

She pulled on long underwear and fleece leggings and all of those good, warm things that would keep her from freezing in the Parisian winter morning. As she rushed for the door, she pulled on the huge jacket that was more like a bed comforter than a coat. 

“Marinette!” she head Tikki behind her and the jingle of keys. 

She smiled thankfully to the little kwami and opened her pocket for the fairy to fly into. She grabbed the keys from her hand and ran outside, bracing herself against the cold. Snow bit at her nose and frost kissed her eyelashes. She practically sprinted to the idling car in front of her apartment, wrestling the old door open and jumping into the passenger seat. 

When she had settled in, she tuned to see Alya smiling hugely at Marinette. Her eyes had that expression she got whenever she had a major scoop. But she had already seen everything she had got for the Ladyblog last night, and nothing else had happened. Hadn’t it?

“What is it?” she questioned. She couldn’t help but being a little concerned. Was it about Ladybug, and if so, what didn’t she know? What was the big smile for? Oh god, did she know? She totally found out that she was Ladybug and now she was smiling like a huge idiot and was gonna tackle her and spread her secret everywhere and then she’d have reporters at her house at all hours of the day and she would never ever get another hour of peace for the rest of her life ever. Her life was over. Officially. 

“You will never guess!” 

“You’re right, I won’t!” 

Alya shoved her phone in Marinette’s face, the article reading, in big, bolded black letters, Agreste Attends Aboutir! 

It took a couple of seconds for the words to process and sink into Marinette’s brain. She knew who the Agrestes were. If you were a fashion student anywhere in Europe - hell, anywhere in the world - you would have to know who the Agrestes were. They were a big deal, perhaps the biggest deal in the fashion world, with more shows per year than any other line on the market. With the most sales worldwide than any other brand ever. And she knew what Aboutir was. Her school, soon to be her alma mater, to which she had earned ample scholarships, had treated her far better than any university ought to have. It was a good school, especially for business. Although she hated the mathematics, she had to admit that knowing how to finance your own business would really help when she became a word famous designer like the Agrestes. Nevertheless, she looked up at her friend. 

“Who?” 

Alya gawked at her. There was no way she was serious, right. But Marinette’s face told another story. 

“Adrien Agreste? Fashion model with #legsfordays-” it was just like her to actually say the word ‘hashtag’ as she spoke “-abs to kill for, and the deepest green eyes you have ever or will ever see? The very epitome of beauty? Literal god on earth?”

“Oh yeah,” Marinette scoffed. “That one.” 

Alya pointed down the street, to where a billboard showed a handsome, shirtless, blond man sporting two pieces of red-headed arm candy. “He’s literally right there! He’s the main model for Agreste Fashions. You can’t tell me that you don’t know him. You spend more time on their fashion sites than I do on the Ladyblog.” 

“Impossible,” Marinette scolded. “I would literally have to be on their website right now.” She was tempted to pull out her phone and delete the numerous tabs with news on Agreste Fashions that she knew cluttered her news feed. 

She had to admit, she did recognize his face. She looked closely at the billboard down the road. “I mean, yeah. I guess I know him.”

“He’s on the front page of literally every Agreste Fashion magazine.” Alya’s indignant tone did not go unnoticed. 

“I don’t usually pay attention to the models, I guess. No matter how - ahem - deep their green eyes are.” She poked fun at her friend, and Alya stared back with false horror plastered on her face. “I just pay more attention to the clothes. That’s why I’m going to business school, dude.” 

Alya shifted the gears from park to drive and sped down the road in one motion. “Whatever, you fucking weirdo.” She began muttering under her breath, still loud enough for the passenger to hear her. “ You should be going to fashion school to fuck some hot models. Or just pass them off to me. You know I’m desperate.”

Marinette laughed. She watched as they passed the billboard sporting the visage of Adrien Agreste. He was a pretty human, she told herself. It wouldn't be bad at all if she happened to, you know, befriend him. 

Alya made a sudden stop at a red light. Marinette was sure that if you could measure the space between the front of their car and the back of the one in front of them, there would be just inches to spare. There was no one else who had more tickets for running red lights than Alya Cesaire. There had to be some kind of world record. She wasn’t just a dangerous driver when she was chasing down Ladybug while she was chasing down an akuma. She liked to push the limits of safety at all times. By now, Marinette was used to the sudden stopping and speeding ahead that her friend was prone to. She still preferred to drive, but her friend refused to let her take control of her baby. Others who entered the car had to be warned, for their safety, of the measures Alya went to to get to their destination on time. 

Within minutes, which, for others, would have taken at least twice the time, they arrived at the back parking lot of their college. Nobody ever went back there, they discovered within their first weeks, and they adopted it as their own. Their meeting and parking spot. It was also the closest parking lot to the internship that Alya held at the magazine across the street. Paid internships were rare, Alya made sure to remind Marinette every chance she got, and she was very proud to have been considered. But of course, she rocked every expectation that the magazine had for her, bringing in more news about Ladybug than any other reporter ever had. 

And it certainly wasn’t because Ladybug would go out of her way to intercept Alya during routine patrols so she could get the best shots. Absolutely not. She would never pose for the Ladyblog or give her the best angles. That’s a crazy assumption. Who told you that? Ladybug didn’t give her most exclusive interviews to the girl. Ridiculous. 

Marinette was proud of her friend every day. It wasn’t as if she did all the work for her friend. Alya was a crazy good reporter all on her own. The questions that she posed during interviews were hard hitting and intense, no matter the subject, no matter her interest level - which was always high. The girl was interested in literally everything. Ladybug was always shocked with the new questions she was posed every time she set up an interview with the girl. She just liked giving that little extra push. 

As they exited the car, Alya told her that she was going to be a couple minutes late that day. She had an interview across town and she needed the car to get there. They would meet at the regular spot as soon as she was done with the interview. 

Marinette was sure she meant as soon as she was done. She drove way too fast. 

They parted ways with a small wave and Marinette went to her first classes of the day. Her first class was a lecture that was always way too boring. She got herself a coffee with three extra shots and a donut with extra sprinkles, and made her way to the lecture hall. Economics wasn’t her favorite subject, but she had to be good at it to understand the business she was bound to run one day. 

She walked into the building that held the lecture hall for her class and took off some of the layers that shielded her from the cold outside, leaving her in a sweater and an undershirt. The maze of a building was the perfect trap for freshman who didn’t know how to navigate, but she made her way through quickly. Her phone chirped at her and she balanced her donut on her coffee to struggle to get it out of the pocket of the jacket draped across her arm. She checked the notification that helpfully told her that she was supposed to be in class and shoved it into her pants pocket. As she turned the corner, she ran straight into someone walking the opposite direction. 

“The fuck!” she yelled as her coffee and donut spilled onto her, the clothes in her arms, and then the ground. The hot liquid stung at her chest, sticking itself aggressively to her boobs. She pulled the soaked clothes away from her body to prevent them from burning her. The girl who had bumped into her began sprouting profuse apologies, but Marinette waved them away with an aggravated smile.

“It’s fine. It’s all good.” She picked up the soiled donut from the steaming puddle on the ground and threw it and the now empty six-dollar cup of coffee into a newby trash can. The liquid that had splashed down her entire body was quickly cooling.

After she had helped clean up the spill and made it into class with seconds to spare, she found the last seat was directly underneath the air conditioner. She never knew why this particular professor liked to keep the room as cold as humanly possible, but he was the bane of her existence. She laid out the wet jackets across her legs so they could dry and simultaneously keep the cold air from hitting her. 

No matter, she was shivering within minutes. 

Paying attention in this class was never her forte. In fact, the only thing she ever really did in this class was study for her others, or sketch. There was something about nearly freezing to death that really got your ideas flowing. Her frozen fingers worked over her old sketch pad as nimbly as they were able, fighting off the cool air that was set on destroying her. She tuned out her teacher completely and focused solely on her work. 

By the end of the gruelling two hour lecture, she had filled five pages of sketches of warm winter coats, scarves, leggings, mittens, and cable knit sweaters lined with wool and fleece and built in heaters. She shivered against the blowing air that she was positive was turning the wetness on her shirt into icicles, and waited to be dismissed by her professor. 

She exited the class with bundles of clothes in her hands and headed straight for the bathroom. If there was one thing she was not about to do, it was going to her digital art class with a giant coffee stain covering her torso. 

There was only one class semester that she actually cared about, and it was digital art. It was really the only class that she had any interest in, and the only class that would actually help her in the future. Well, sure, economics would help her with the whole business thing, but she hated it, so she could never admit that. 

She took off her sweater, leaving her white long sleeve undershirt on with the attractive brown stain across the chest, and started running it under cold water. She tried washing out the coffee, but it insisted on staying a big blotchy blemish on one of her nicest, warmest sweaters. She cursed and went over to the hand dryer that spat out warm air. 

It would have been nice if she had remembered that wool shrunk under heat when it was wet. It would have been really nice if the fabric was already pre-shrunk, but Marinette was a purist and refused to have any piece of clothing with compromised materials. So, when she had finished drying the once beautiful sweater and went to put it back on, she was confused when it wouldn’t fit over her head. 

After close inspection of her aforementioned favorite sweater and discovered to her utter dismay that it was now at least two sizes too small, she wanted to hit something. 

Instead, she let herself give out a small, pathetic whine that would have been embarrassing had the bathroom been occupied by anyone other than her pitiful ass. 

She checked the time. Another fabulous addition to her day.

She was late. 

She ran across the campus to get to her next class, not bothering to put on the several layers that she held in her arms on the way. That would just slow her down. She tread carefully across the slick sidewalks, avoiding icy patches as they came while still going as quickly as possible. 

It turns out corners aren’t her friend. Because as she tried to make a turn, her feet slipped out from beneath her and she landed hard on one of her knees. Brisk, dull pain raced through her knee cap and up to her hip as she rolled to prevent direct impact with the ground. When someone fell as much as she did, you had to learn how to prevent injury as much as possible. Usually she was being thrown, or kicked, or punched, or just attacked, but her clumsiness was an adversary all on its own. 

She hissed against the pain that grew up her leg and jumped back up to her feet to keep running. Her reflexes were infinitely heightened when she was in her suit, but it didn’t all come from Tikki, who spoke up from her pouch in the scarf around her neck. 

“Are you alright, Marinette?” the little voice peeped up. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just gotta get to class.” She patted the fairy on her tiny head and gave a comforting smile, and Tikki disappeared back into the safety of the warm fabric. 

Another minute passed, and Marinette made it to the building that her class was held in. She cursed her classes for being across campus from one another, but there was nothing she could do about it now. She could only run. 

When she stampeded through the door of the classroom, she was freezing and sweating. Her cheeks and nose were bright red from the combination of cold air and running approximately seventeen miles to get to her destination in time. Her hair was barely contained underneath her hat, which weren’t allowed indoors, so she had to reveal the literal mess that was her unkempt bed head. To top it all off, her undershirt was see through where it wasn’t splotched in brown. 

Great. 

“Marinette. It’s so good of you to join us.” Snickering came from the students who had made it on time and were looking at her from their seats. Her professor stood in front of the lines of students with their computers already set up and facing the front, where the door happened to spit her out. Professor Leroy was the kind of teacher who liked to make fun of people who she knew could take it. Marinette could, though she hated being the subject of such sarcastic comments as those. She gave her favorite professor a half smile and went to take a seat in the middle of the room. 

The girls that she passed all looked very put together today. Everyone had on their make up and what looked to be push up bras. Their hair was done perfectly. Marinette found herself simultaneously feeling very underdressed and uncomfortable as she took her seat and set up her computer that survived her fall. 

“As I was saying,” continued Leroy, “we should have some new students to join us today. Some have dropped out - I guess I didn’t impress them -” polite chuckles from the audience “- so there was some room to accept from the waitlist. I just want to make sure you all found your way.” A clipboard appeared in her hands and she looked over the list of names. “There should be a… Aimee Dubois.”

A girl in the front row raised her hand and shared a smile with the professor. 

“And a Lucas Bernard?”

A boy in the back of the class muttered a greeting but refused to smile at Leroy. 

“Pleasure,” the professor muttered in return, earning a round of giggles from everyone who heard. “And last, an Adrien-”

“Present!” The boy was even later than Marinette, which was impressive. “Professor Leroy?” he entered the room in a little bit of a flurry and immediately smoothed himself down. He couldn’t have himself looking as frazzled as Marinette did, now could he? Was that even possible? He shook the hand of the professor, with a slight blush from the latter. 

“Mr. Agreste. Pleasure to have you in the class.” Every eye in the class was on him. Every female chest in the class was extended in greeting, peeking through low cut shirts that were inappropriate for the weather. 

“Pleasure to be here.” He turned and gave a wink to the class. Severa girls swooned. Marinette rolled her eyes, as did the girl next to her. They shared unenthused looks. The girl, Juleka, had been a lifesaver when Marinette couldn't make it to classes. Akumas were aggravating like that: coming at the most inconvenient times. She was a kind girl as well. They hung out sometimes when Alya wanted to party and couldn’t find enough people to fill her quota, forcing Marinette to dig into her imited friend group. Honestly, who had time to make friends when you were saving Paris half the time, and working and learning the other half?

Adrien had turned - Marinette believed the theater term was “cheated out” - towards his crowd while he spoke with the professor. It was like he was expecting an audience. 

“You can have a seat by Marinette. She’ll help you set up.”

Marinette groaned to herself as some people shot her dirty looks. 

“He can sit by me!” One girl a few rows up offered. 

“Kelsey is sitting next to you, Marie,” Leroy reminded the girl.

“She can move.” 

Kelsey didn’t like that one bit. 

“No, I think he’ll fit just fine by Marinette.” Leave it to professor Leroy to tell it like it is. 

Marinette raised her hand to greet Adrien as he came to sit by her. He gave winks and small waves to all of the girls he passed, even going so far as to blow someone a kiss. Juleka gagged. Marinette moved all of her stuff off of the seat next to her and onto the floor beneath her feet. It was a small classroom, unfortunately, and there was only one seat to that side of her. He sat way too close for comfort. 

“Hi,” he whispered as Leroy continued introductions, offering her his hand to shake. “I’m Adrien Agreste.” 

She smiled distractedly, trying to listen to the lecture, but shook his hand nonetheless. She was nothing if she wasn’t - sort of - polite. “So I’ve heard.” Sort of. 

“You’re Marinette?” 

“Yup.” 

“What happened to your shirt?” 

“I’m listening to the professor, Adrien.” 

“Right. School.” He pulled his laptop from his expensive looking computer case and set it up on the desk in front of him, plugging in the chord to the power outlet. His computer was shiny and new, the signature Apple logo illuminated brightly. 

It piqued her interest. She couldn’t help it. “Is that the new Apple computer? Like, the one that hasn’t even come out yet?” 

He looked at her with a question in his eyes and then registered her question. “Oh, yeah,” he laughed. “My dad knows Tim Cook.”

Of course he does.

Now she was curious. She liked nice things, and she had been eyeing that computer for a long time. She had been saving up for the Next Big Thing for a while, and this was it. Sketching capabilities here a must for her, and this one had it. But it was expensive. Her eyes ran over him, looking for other things to marvel at. 

Not that he wasn’t a marvel in and of himself. Those cheekbones. Damn. And it was completely unfair to have eyebrows like that. How can they be both thick and perfectly groomed? Had he filled them in? She looked closer. Nope. He was just perfect. His blond hair was styled down to the hair. It looked both soft and crisp, like the hairs were afraid of falling out of place. It must have taken him hours to style it that morning. Or he could just have a stylist. I mean, he was a millionaire. He probably had a stylist that did all of his makeup while he was still sleeping. 

Marinette shook her head from thoughts of him and tried to look back at the skillfully crafted powerpoint at the front of the room, but her eyes caught something shiny. She looked down at his wrist and tried to prevent the little gasp that escaped her mouth. 

“Is that a Cartier Rotonde?” Okay, watches were her thing. Like, she loved fashion like no other. Accessories were a huge part of her style. But watches. And a Cartier. The diamonds around the frame sparkled like they had been freshly polished. Hell, they probably had been. 

Adrien looked over at her and laughed. “Yeah. Specialty made. I picked out the design. You like it?”

She looked up at the wry, flirtatious grin he was giving her and sat up straight in her seat, looking adamantly ahead. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Fine?” 

“That’s what I said.”

He laughed again, drawing the attention of all the people within a five yard radius. Unfortunately, it drew the attention of Leroy as well. The professor turned around from where she was writing something on the board and gave Marinette a trying smile. “You said something funny, did you?”

She turned to Adrien, who was giving her a smug grin, and sighed. “Apparently, I’m hysterical.”

“Glad to hear it.” The professor nodded her head to address the pair of students. “Do try not to disrupt my class in the future. No matter how funny you find her, Mr. Agreste.”

Marinette returned the smug grin to Adrien, who crossed his arms over his chest like a little boy and slumped back in his seat. What a child. She couldn’t stop herself from catching another glimpse of the watch that glinted on his wrist. And the light that made the highlights of his hair glow.

For the rest of the class, he occasionally asked her a question about the syllabus, what they had already gone over in class, and all of the usual things you’re supposed to talk about when you’re in class. However, something about the way he was programmed made him really like to distract her. So when he read over the first paper’s requirement and didn’t understand it completely, of course, he went to Marinette to ask her help. 

“What don’t you get?”

“It’s more the general concept.” He bared his gritted teeth in a faux, ‘I’m sorry’ smile that made Marinette sigh and rub her temples. Of course. 

“So, have you ever actually been in a digital art class, or are you just making it up as you go?” 

He smiled more broadly, which got another sigh from Marinette. “Maybe,” he suggested, scooting a little closer and wiggling his eyebrows, “I need a good tutor.”

She was tempted to smack his forehead instead of face palming her own. Instead, she decided to play it sly. Why not. She liked crippling people emotionally. So she edged closer to him, as far as she could in her seat, and leaned in close to his face. She lowered her eyes and peered up at him through her eyelashes, batting them slowly. “You sure do.” A coy smile played at the edges of her lips as his eyes widened. “It just so happens that I know a pretty good one.”

“Y-yeah?” he stammered. She could practically see his aneurism. It figured that he wouldn’t be able to take his own ridiculous flirting. 

“Yeah,” she breathed, as softly as she could. “His name Jose and he takes just about as much shit as I do.” He pulled back slightly when he registered her words and her face hardened. “Which is to say, none. Get back to work, you fuck boy.” She pointed sternly to his new computer, which barely had any programs on it. He must have just gotten it. “Download photoshop.”

Those were the last words that they shared for the rest of the class. She watched him download several hundred dollars worth of programming without blinking an eye, and his head remained stubbornly on his screen. 

When the class began packing five minutes before it was supposed to be dismissed, and started the tidal wave of unstoppable movement toward to the door, Adrien was the first to leave. Marinette packed up slowly and walked to the library, where she would spend the next several hours studying before her last class of the day. 

Ballroom was quite possibly to most useless class she had ever taken, but her school required some sort of physical fitness. It was either this or yoga. And that had filled up within the first seconds of registration. So she was stuck in used character shoes every day for an hour and a half of her life, learning how to twirl and look pretty. 

She arrived to class early, going to the changing room, where she had bought a locker to store her stuff. She could have easily brought the clothes to and from her house every day, but after an incident in which her bag was repossessed by a homeless man with a shoe fetish, she decided it was best to keep her extra clothes stored where no one else could get to them. She took off her coffee soaked clothes and replaced them with her tight black leotard that was much too snug for her taste. It made her feel far too… open. Exposed. She covered her legs with thick black leggings and tied her hair up into a tight ponytail with several bands that she kept across her wrist. It was getting far too long, she told herself. It was time to get a cut. 

Her character shoes, the cheapest ones she could find, happened to also be the tallest ones that particular brand sold. Marinette was not really the most graceful human being on the earth. In fact, on a clumsiness scale of one to ten, she rated about a Goofy in ice skates. So having heels, which she almost religiously went against wearing, and having to dance in the five or so inches while trying to appear graceful- 

It wasn’t the best sight. 

She stretched with the rest of the people who came early, easily spreading into the splits on either side, but barely able to touch the floor in her middle. She asked another girl to help her stretch, and she knelt down on the small of her back as Marinette stretched. It hurt, but it felt good. She warmed up with jumping jacks, her heels clacking on the floor as she jumped, and the teacher walked in with a smile. 

“Glad to see all of you this afternoon. How are we doing?” 

Professor Bennett was a professional ballet coach from America with an obsession for France. He was one of the kinder professors that Marinette had ever been in a class with, although he had quite a reputation for his outbursts at his dancers in America. He was like to Gordon Ramsay of teachers. Luckily his was a class and there were lower expectations than perfection. 

“Hi, professor.” the class responded as one. 

“Alright, we’re going across the floor with our six steps. Line up.” 

The class of twenty or so students scurried to one side of the room as he started the music. Cross step. Step. Step. Chaine. Step. Prep. Pirouette. 

Marinette managed to do one and a half turns the last time she went across the floor, but this time she was determined. She was still annoyed, and she barely got any work done in the library. One of the horny, red faced pricks behind the counter decided it was a good idea to stare directly at her chest while she was trying to ask him about a book she needed to read for her economics class. She got it. Her shirt was see through. But a little common decency would be nice. And her character shoes were rubbing.

When it was her turn to go across the floor, she prepped herself to go in time with the music. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. 

Cross step. Step. Step. Chaine. Step. Prep. Here we go. 

She went to push off into her turn just as the loud doors of the dance studio crashed open. She sound somehow managed to be heard over the pounding music of the speakers, and she got distracted mid-turn. She fell hard to her ass and splayed out on the floor. 

Who else would it have been at that very moment than Adrien Agreste standing in the doorway, clutching at his dance bag that was slung over his shoulder. Marinette glared to him while half the other people in the room gave audible gasps of delight and surprise. 

“Adrien!” Bennett walked over to the new addition to the class and gave him the run down of the class. He pointed toward the changing rooms and she watched him disappear behind the doors. Marinette stood up and brushed herself off, paying special attention to her butt, which took the brunt of the fall, and where there was bound to be the most dirt. Black pants were great at showing every speck of dirt you had sat in. She went back to work.

Prep. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Cross step. Step. Step. Chaine. Step. Prep. Let’s do this. 

As she turned, the music shut off. She spun wildly out of her turn and faced the professor at the music booth. He called out, “Partner up!”

The girls of the class drew like magnets towards where Adrien had appeared at the front of the room. Marinette saw him detach himself from the crowd and make his way toward her. Hell no. 

They made eye contact as he walked across the room and she glared. The closest dancer to her was also the shortest in the class, but she didn’t care. She grabbed his hand and pulled him close to her, raising an eyebrow at Adrien, where he stood, now in the empty middle of the cavernous room. He looked her up and down and cracked a smile, offering a hand to the closest dancer in the room, who was at least two heads shorter than him. She looked like she was about to hyperventilate. 

“Alright, everyone! We’re waltzing today. Let-” his words cut off as he looked to Marinette. He shook his head. “Let’s get you someone that’s more your height, shall we? The male is usually the taller of the pair.” His eyes scanned over the room and caught the eye of the shortest female dancer in the room. Guess who she was paired with. You’ll never get it. 

“Sharon. Trade with Marinette, why don’t we?” 

Sharon, who was paired with - you guessed it! - Adrien scoffed and looked indignantly at the professor. 

“I know! It’s so sad. Mr. Agreste seems like a very popular fellow, isn’t he. But Matthew needs a partner more his height. Let’s go!” He clapped his hands loudly, and the entirety of the class startled. His claps were likely the loudest sounds in human existence. He managed to be heard over the music which was constantly turned to the loudest volume. It was cacophonous. 

Marinette walked begrudgingly towards Adrien in the middle of the room. Every eye was on them, especially Sharon, who dragged her feet walking away from the piece of man meat that was Mr. Agreste. 

“Places! Quickly!” 

Adrien let his hand hang in the air for Marinette to grab. She reluctantly placed her hand in his and he pulled her closer, his other hand on the small of her back. Even in her heels, she was a couple inches shorter than he was. Her eyes met his lips, and she refused to look at them. She looked up towards his impossibly green eyes. No. She looked up to stare at his forehead.

“Marinette, I want to-”

“Do you need help with this, too?”

“No, I’ve taken lessons-”

“Of course you have.”

“Look, I’m-”

The music started and Professor Bennett began clapping loudly in ¾ time. “One! Two! Three!” he shouted. Still, most of the class couldn’t get the rhythm. 

Adrien glared at the speakers overhead and began stepping in time. Marinette had only been in the class for the last couple of weeks, so she didn’t have that much of a gras over the steps, but Adrien was surprisingly good. His rhythm was perfect as he lead her across the floor, pivoting and pulling her along with a poise that she did not expect from him. She closed her eyes to focus on the steps, tripping over herself more than once. 

They took turns stepping on each other’s toes and apologizing over the deafening music. By the time Marinette got the steps down, the professor was yelling more instructions at them. 

“Elbows up!” Their already raised elbows shot higher, over their shoulders. The professor came over to correct them. 

“No space between bodies!” Adrien’s grip on her torso became tighter as he pulled closer, the space that Marinette was trying to keep between them all of the sudden disappearing. She hated the fact that she could feel his firm abdomen against hers. She hated that she liked the way it felt. 

“Keep eye contact!” Her eyes came up from where she was trying to stare at her footwork. She kept tripping over herself, but it became less regular as Adrien lead her effectively. They looked at each other, her with barely contained malice. Him with - what was that? - guilt? 

What did he have to be guilty about?

“One! Two! Three!” the professor clapped. 

Eventually, thankfully, the song came to an end. Marinette pulled herself as far away from her partner as possible while still being considered a partner with him. She looked at the other girls in the room who were trying to sneak closer to where they were standing and got strangely protective. Her body lead her closer to his side. 

“Great!” the professor called as he turned the music down. “You’ve all basically mastered the box step!” Marinette scoffed. She sure hadn’t. Adrien caught her eye and gave her a thumbs up. His mouth formed the words ‘Good job.’ She shrugged him off, but felt herself drifting closer to him as others in the room did. 

“Now, we’re going to learn a more difficult step.” He launched into an explanation of the steps, calling another girl to demonstrate. She was the most experienced of the dancers in the class, and acted as the professor’s model for most things. They showed the class the way to do the steps, and Marinette made herself pay attention instead of inching closer to Adrien. 

He had other plans. 

Leaning over slightly, he whispered down to her. “I wanna talk to you about class earlier.”

She took a breadth of a step away, just enough to tell him she wasn’t interested. But he just didn’t get it. He stepped closer. “I just want to-”

“You need a tutor. Got it. I’ll look out for one.” She crossed her arms across her chest. She felt the sudden need to invest in a dance turtleneck. 

“No, that’s not.” 

“Alright!” The professor announced. “Your turn.”

Marinette turned back to her partner and raised her arms into position. He slipped inside them and pulled her close to his chest. “Marinette.” He said it like a plead. 

She looked down at her feet and tried to emulate what the teacher had showed her. She missed most of the steps, but Adrien seemed to have gotten all of them, and she lead her fluidly through the steps. Somehow, she got them just from being pulled into them. 

“Marinette,” he asked again. She looked sharply up at him. 

“Not right now, okay?” Her voice was cutting, and she meant it to be. But she didn’t expect the hurt that came over his face. She wanted to apologize, but the professor was speaking again. 

They remained partners for almost the full hour and a half, but they refused to speak to one another. Adrien was a really good dancer, it turned out, and she fell easily into step alongside him. She became more confident as she went, and eventually was able to get most steps of the waltz without having to constantly stare at her feet. By the end of the class, the professor commended them for their skill that day. 

Marinette blushed at the obligatory applause and ducked out of the room to change as class was dismissed. She changed quickly into warmer clothes after patting the sweat off of her brow and upper lip, then walked - more like jogged - from the studio, towards the car. Her feet were sore from walking in heels for so long, but the large boots that she fastened over her legs provided several layers of warmth and comfort. The two hundred dollars was totally worth it. 

She rushed from the building while wrapping her scarf tightly around her neck, pulling it up over her nose. Tikki appeared from her little pocket and smiled at her chosen. “What was all that about, Marinette?”

Of course. Never put it past a kwami to spy on her every waking moment. What else did they have to do? 

“It was nothing, Tikki. I was just annoyed. I probably went a little too far, didn’t I?” She grimaced at the harsh words she had spat at him. Had it been that bad? Dammit. She should probably apologize. 

“That’s up to you. How do you want to be known?” 

She sighed against the kwami’s words. The little fairy was right, as usual. She was always right. She should apologize. But she was already at the parking lot. 

“Tomorrow,” she decided to herself, and promised to Tikki. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow and make it up to him. Maybe I’ll get cookies from the shop? They could sure use it.”

“That’s a good idea, Marinette. You should visit your mom, too.” 

Marinette sighed and sat on the ground to wait for Alya. She wished she could sit in the car with the heater to wait, but she wasn’t the luckiest of people. She pulled her jacket closer around her and snuggled up to herself for the long haul. “Yeah, I really should. I just…”

“I know. It’s hard.”

She fought off the sudden appearance of tears in her eyes and shook her head. When she heard footsteps, she sat up straight. Tikki flew into the pocket in her scarf to hide as Marinette stood to look around. 

Who could it be other than the one and only Adrien Agreste walking around the corner? Literally no one. Marinette shut her eyes against the annoyance that puddled in her stomach and waited for him to walk over to her. He was wearing a black A.P.C. trenchcoat and a knit wool scarf that matched the boots that hadn’t seen earlier. He was the pinnacle of fashion, but she didn’t really expect anything less. He was perfection. 

What?

“Marinette, can I talk to you?” He approached her like she was a spooked horse, and she huffed with an eye roll. 

“Sure. Yup. Let’s do this.” She heard a chiding whisper from Tikki in her ear. She closed her eyes and let herself relax, taking a big breath. She pulled the scarf away from her face so she could speak freely. “What’s up?”

He walked closer to her, enough so that when he breathed, the vapor clouded just in front of her. She couldn’t explain why she wanted to be closer. “I wanted to ask- I mean, I’m sorry if-” he sighed dramatically. “I’m sorry if I offended you in some way.” 

Apologetic was a new color on him. She should alert his photographer. She pulled the thought from her head. He was apologizing, for God’s sake, and it was tim she do the same thing. 

“No.” 

“No?”

They looked at each other for a moment. “No, sorry. It wasn’t-” she searched for words. “You didn’t offend me. I was just having a shit morning. Econ is really hard and I was late for class because someone bumped into me and I spilled my coffee all over myself and I was really cold and I didn’t get to eat breakfast because it landed in a puddle of coffee, so I’ve been cranky all day. And I’m sorry I took it out on you. It’s not your fault. I promise.” She gave her best apologetic smile, and he looked surprised. His eyebrows had basically disappeared in his hair line, and she found the expression beyond cute. Endearing. Not cute. He’s not cute!

“Good!” he breathed. “That’s great. I’m sorry, I’ve just been really nervous. I’ve never been to school before, so I don’t really know how to-”

“Wait, you’ve ever been to school before?” She had to stop him. How old was he? 

He shook his head and sighed. “I know, right? My dad kept me homeschooled for like my entire life. I just recently convinced him that I should get an education, so this is my first year at an actual college. Actual school.” He smiled at the spires of the college that surrounded them. “It’s pretty cool, huh?”

The gods really hated her, apparently, because they chose that moment to let the sun burst from behind a cloud and bathe this ethereal being with light. His golden hair was as glowing as his skin, smiling slightly as he fondly appreciated the college in which he had just spent his first day of school. He was beautiful. Fuck it. She had to admit it to herself sometime. He just was. Perfect. Cute. Beautiful. 

“Yeah, pretty cool.” 

He looked back to her and gave her a smile that would have melted her if it hadn’t been so damn cold. “It was nice to meet you, Marinette.” He offered her a hand. 

She shook it. “You, too, Adrien.” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess.” A car honking drew their attention away from each other. Alya was sitting in what looked like a very warm car and Marinette found the need to be warm much more pertinent that her need to be looked at by a cute boy. Fuck, he was cute. 

“Yeah,” she started walking toward the car. What an eloquent human she had turned into. “See you.” They waved at each other as she walked away, and she watched him disappear behind the corner as Alya drove away. As they pulled out of one parking lot, she stopped the car on the side of the road and turned off the engine. 

“So help me god, if you don’t start speaking immediately I will kick you out of this car and you will walk home in the cold.”

They glared at each other. 

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me, bitch. Start talking.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which my children are bad asses and hopeless romantics. Help them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's supposed to by italics, but my computer hates me. I'll figure it out... eventually.

Marinette explained everything that happened that day, from start to finish. She could have left details out, but honestly she was scared about what Alya might do if she ever found out. The good reporter she was, she listened attentively to prevent any information from getting lost. You could see the wheels in her head turning, remembering questions to ask later, ad occasionally interjecting to clarify certain statements. She nodded every once in awhile and closed her eyes in understanding, leaning as close to Marinette as she could without being too weird. 

When Marinette finished, Alya turned forward and gripped the steering wheel in her hands, breathing steadily. Marinette watched her nervously. No way would she not have anything to say. That was impossible. 

The girl took a deep breath and closed her eyes, her grip around the wheel tightening. 

“Alya, are you al-”

“Oh my god, Marinette, this is best thing to happen ever do you realize what this means that you know Adrien Agreste and that he literally chased you down to apologize, because he’s gonna fall in love with you and you’ll be married to a famous dude and you’ll have really attractive babies and you’ll be super rich and be able to buy me a nice house in the country, and we’ll all be set for life, this is amazing.”

“Whoa! Alya, the fuck?” The brunette turned to her friend and took her face in her hands. 

Her voice got very serious, her eyes stern. She had no choice but to listen. “Marinette. You must promise me one thing, okay?” 

“...Okay?”

“You must not, under any circumstances,” she pulled them closer, their noses almost touching. “Never,” she pressed, and took a deep breath, her voice almost a whisper, “use protection.” Marinette ripped her face away from her friend’s hands with an annoyed giggle. 

“Come on!”

“You have to trap that boy!”

“Alya, what the fuck!”

“Do it for me! For my house in the countryside!” 

“You hate the countryside!”

“I love money.”

The girls dissolved into a fit of giggles. Marinette could hear the small tinkling laughter of Tikki by her side and patted her scarf gently to acknowledge her presence. Her friends were so silly, she thought to herself as she took breaths to calm her laughter. 

“Come on,” Marinette urged. “It’s time to be home. It’s cold out here.”

“You’d be cold anywhere.”

“I’m cold blooded, I can’t help it!” 

“It’s because you have literally no fat on your body. It’s all muscle. I don’t understand.” Alya started the cr and put it into gear. “All you do it eat chips and watch Netflix. Why are you so strong?”

“Genetics,” Marinette blurted almost defensively. Alya eyed her from the side and giggled. 

“You’re ridiculous, girl.” 

“You love me.”

“You can’t prove that,” Alya smirked as she ran a red light. Marinette sighed and shook her head. What was with this girl and breaking the law? She had become such a rebel after getting into the Ladyblog. It was like the superhero was a bad influence on her best friend. What a shame, she told herself as they sped through a stop sign. 

Marinette actually really enjoyed the way her friend drove, like they had somewhere important to be. It made her feel like she was on an adventure, running from the cops - which had only happened once, don’t get any ideas - or chasing down something important. Her heart raced almost as much as it did when she was swinging through the city on her yo-yo. If she opened the window, the frigid air would blow through her hair at the same velocity as she did when she was speeding on her own. 

Luckily, her suit mostly guarded her from the cold. If it didn’t, there was no way she would ever be a superhero in the winter. Ladybugs hibernated, right? Maybe she would be the first. 

Within minutes, they were on her street, screeching to a halt in front of her apartment. Marinette hopped out and waved goodbye to her friend, who didn’t wait to get started down the street. She skipped steps to get to her door and fumbled with the key to get inside. The entryway led to yet another set of stairs she had to climb to get to her apartment, the tiny room on the top floor of the complex. It was the cheapest she could find, and she thought it might be warmer on the top floor, but there was such a draft that she almost froze every night. At least it was private. 

Mostly.

One of her neighbors slammed through the front door seconds after he did, mumbling under her breath and accidentally dropping her keys to the floor. She cursed herself and picked them up, knocking her head into the banister of the stairway and cursing again. She rubbed her head and made her way to her apartment. 

“Julia,” Marinette called down to, probably the only, neighbor whose name she knew. “Are you alright?”

The anger that filled the girl’s eyes when she looked up to Marinette faded into disappointment. She heaved a deep breath and continued rubbing the back of her head. “Yeah, I’m fine. My boss canned me today, isn’t that just great?” She seemed to be speaking more to herself than anyone else. “I mean, I’ve got a kid to feed, you know? And it’s not like I actually did anything wrong. The food was gonna be thrown out anyway, right? At least we were gonna eat it!” Tears that had been brimming came falling down her cheeks. “God, what am I gonna do?” She walked to her door and Marinette stepped down a couple of stair to keep eye sight. 

Her heart went out for her, and she called out again. “Do you guys wanna come up for dinner?” 

Julia looked up, surprised. “What?”

Marinette glanced back to her apartment, where she knew there was barely any food. She lived day to day, with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and granola bars, but she was pretty sure she had some pasta and some sauce somewhere. Certainly enough for three people. Well… maybe she would just cook for them. She wasn’t that hungry anyway. “I can make you something? If that’s okay?”

The older woman smiled up to Marinette. Her face seemed to brighten slightly at the offer, though her face darkened again when she looked back to her apartment. “That’s alright, we’ll be fine. Thank you, though, um…?”

“Oh, I’m Marinette.” She waved. 

“Julia.” The woman’s smile became embarrassed. “But you already knew that. Sorry, I’m not very good with names.” 

“It’s okay. I’ll see you around. Let me know if you ever need a babysitter, or some tea, a cup of sugar,” Marinette offered as she walked back up the stairs. 

“Thanks,” Julia called up the stairs and let herself into the apartment. 

Marinette followed suit, closing the door softly behind her. She shed layers of coats and sweaters and scarves onto the coat hanger next to the front door. It was a cute antique thing that she had rescued from a yard sale not a month before. It had become one of her favorite pieces in her home, and not because it was a place where her warmest clothes were stored. Well… maybe. 

She made her way to the drafty little room that was her bedroom and hid herself under even more layers of warmth than she had on when she walked in the door. Fluffy comforters were her favorite inventions ever. No. Heated blankets. She vowed to herself to marry whoever had invented heated blankets. They were her favorite person in the world just then. She let herself warm up in her apartment for a while and draped the warm blanket across her shoulders to march around the house like a wizened king. 

She opened her backpack and forced herself to work on an assignment that was due the next week. Her phone bleeped with a message from Alya and she responded quickly. Every once in awhile, the girl would mention the events of the day and a quiet blush would make its way across Marinette’s face. She ignored the tickling feeling that bubbled in her stomach and set herself to do the work. 

_Are you coming out tonight? _Alya’s next response asked.__

__Marinette shook her head. Really? The girl always wanted an excuse to go out to the bar, watch the mysterious guy at the back do his thing. What that thing was and why Alya was so enchanted by it, Marinette would never understand._ _

___I’ve got this stupid assignment for digital art to work on ____ _

_____So that’s a no? ____ _ _ _

_______Unfortunately _Marinette sighed against the hand holding up her cheek. She almost wanted to go, anything to get out of doing actual work. _Will you be okay by yourself? ______ _ _ _ _ _

__________It took a second for Alya to respond._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________Sorry, I just got to the bar ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Marinette giggled at her friend. Always the opportunist. What was she going to do at a bar on a Thursday anyway? Was she expecting to get picked up?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____________You better be able to drive me to school tomorrow ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________I’ll be fine, mom ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________A picture came through of Alya with a half empty cocktail. What a charmer. Her hair was half messed up and she had the look in her eye of someone who was having too much fun._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Don’t go crazy I hate Uber ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________The conversation ended there, but Marinette was sure she was gonna get several messages in the dead of night about how amazing her night was and how she wished Marinette was there and all that jazz. All the usual._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________She was surprised the next morning when Alya was early. As long as she was on time, Marinette didn’t care. But it was unusual for the girl to get anywhere before she was supposed to. Right on time or not at all, she always said. She didn’t always say that. She said it once. Whatever._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________She hopped in the car and closed the door behind her, immediately going to warm her hands in front of the warm air blowing from the dying heater. As usual, they sped down the street at top speed, cutting around corners and blasting through intersections, making it to the parking lot in record time. Literally every day was record time. One of these days, they were just going to bamf into the parking lot in no seconds flat, and Alya would look at Marinette with that cheesy, too big smile that she always got when her time was below the day before._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Yeah. That one._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“You’re gonna kill us one day.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Not today, though.” She turned off the car and took Marinette’s face in her cold hands._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Ah!” Marinette hissed, trying to squirm away from the strong grip that locked her in place. “Cold cold cold cold!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Today, my dear child, you are going to seduce that wonderful Agreste boy, and you’re gonna go out with me tonight, and you’re going to invite him, and then…” She pulled them closer. What a weirdo. “You’re gonna _do it _,” she whispered, like a fifth grader who had just learned about the concept of sex.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“You’re a child.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“You’re gonna have a child. With Adrien. Focus on that.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________Marinette giggled as they got out of the car. They parted ways with a wave - Marinette ignored her friend’s other, more suggestive hand motions - and went on their respective ways. They had gotten there several minutes earlier than usual, a fact that Marinette would never admit to that smug dare devil that was Alya, so she could actually enjoy her coffee before class, and not run into someone and spill it all down the front of her body so that her white undershirt became see through. What a wonderful time._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________She got the strongest brew of coffee she could buy with several extra espresso shots, and as much whipped cream and sugar as could fit into the cup. By the time she set the sugar down, the latte had become a supersaturated solution. There was no way any more sugar could be added to it if she didn’t want it to congeal on the bottom in a mess of sweetness. She poured some more in, because she, in fact, _did _want a mush of warm sugar to filter to the bottom as a last shot of energy before class. She also bought a chocolate croissant and a cup of fruit. She might as well splurge every once in awhile, right?___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________She sat down in the little cafe and crossed her legs, leaning back to relax before her day began. She sipped on the too-hot coffee and nibbled on fresh pastries and strawberries that were imported and mushy. Whatever, they were sweet, so she could deal with it. She watched the steam rise from the open cup of her coffee, fading from thick whiteness to lines of vapor, until it altogether disappeared._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________As soon as her coffee was finished and she had stuffed the last of the croissant in her mouth - not as good as her parent’s, obviously, but it would do - she huffed her bag over her shoulder and made her way to the door. She struggled with the lid of the container of her fruit as she walked, trying to clasp the little tupperware lid back together without breaking it. Running into things was one of those things that Marinette was just good at. So it made sense that, as she was walking out the door of the cafe, she ran straight into a brick of a human._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________After collision, she reeled back, tripping over her own feet and nearly falling flat on her ass. What a great way to start another day._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Whoa!” The person she ran into grabbed at her hand before she fell and she grabbed onto it like a lifeline. They helped her right herself and she finally got a look at them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Great. Fuck. Really, truly: _fuck _.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________“Marinette, I’m really sorry. Are you okay?” She couldn’t speak when confronted with the dazzling green eyes of the famous Agreste boy. He was so tall, at least a head and a half taller than she was. She didn’t really get a good feel for his height when she was dancing next to him in her high heels. But now, she had to practically crane her neck to look up at him. It didn’t help that she was standing so close. Soooooo close._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________“Marinette?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________“Yes! You’re fine! I’m fine. I mean, not that you’re not fine, too. Because - wow. I mean you’re fine. _I mean yes I’m fine thanks for helping me I gotta go bye _.” She practically sprinted out the door, leaving him in her wake. Her face felt like molten glass taken shape, her cheeks bulbs of hot lava that had been stuffed into the pitiful mess of a girl that was Marinette. Quite the metaphor, but it was accurate.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________She made it to her econ class right on time and slumped down in her seat to set up her computer. Her face was still flaming. What an idiot. She hid behind the screen of her laptop as others filtered into the room, too busy pitying herself to take notice of the alerts plastered across the monitor._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________Just because she had a crush now didn’t mean…. Oh _fuck _she really had a crush on him didn’t she. Perfect.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________“Alright everyone, let’s begin,” the professor started in the front of the room, clearing his monotonous voice to be heard over the pre-class drone. He preferred the sound of his own drone. “There’s a little akuma incident going on downtown, so we’re required to take attendance to make sure everyone is accounted for. It’s just procedure. No need to be alarmed.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________Marinette’s ears pricked up. Akuma? Why didn’t she know about that?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________She took her phone out of her pocket and looked at the several news alerts that she had set up around the word “akuma” and “attack.” Every news outlet was already there and recording the damage that this akuma was causing. There were several texts from Alya as well, telling her how she had taken the car and was on her way to the scene. She must have missed the buzzing while trying not to fall head over he- no, she would just fall on her ass. Nothing more. Ugh._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________She didn’t wait for her professor to call her name. The class was too large for her to sit there while people needed her. She sprinted from the classroom without picking up her bag or computer. She was already late, no time for distractions. Her teacher called after her as she bolted from the classroom, but she ignored him, looking for the closest place to transform._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________A nearby janitor’s closet appeared in her peripherals and, luckily, it was unlocked. She ducked inside and said the literal magic words, feeling the comfort of Tikki’s magic consuming her. Within seconds, she fled from the closet and out a nearby window. She swung faster than she usually did to get to the sight of the attack. She forced herself to fly between the buildings at record speeds. Alya would be so proud._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________Honestly, she felt guilty that it had taken her so long to get there. She shouldn't have been so preoccupied with thoughts of Adrien. For God’s sake, she _just _met him. There was no reason to be fawning over him like a teenage girl just discovering her budding sexuality and projecting it onto the most sought-after male figure in her life. Just… you know, for example.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Her quick stroke of luck broke into pieces as she examined the situation below her. In the streets of a square in the center of the city, the akuma was suspended in midair. She was sheathed in luxurious-looking, gossamer cream fabric that flowed out in every direction like she was floating in a pool of water. The trademark mask of every akuma victim across her eyes was formed of the same material, mixing with a jumble of curly dark hair that contrasted sharply with the light material. A song flowed from her red lips like tinkling bells that enchanted those around her into stopping in their tracks._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________The song rang out across the courtyard like a mermaid drawing pirates to the rocky depths. Ladybug’s head filled with the heady tune and she could feel herself getting pulled softly under the effects of the song._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________A burst of static rang out from the akuma alarm speakers set up at even intervals across the square. They should have been blaring still. Was she really that late? The startling sound drew Ladybug from the trance of the akuma, but the others nearer to her were still drawn into the sound, enchanted by its music._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Her new victims, stunned by her beauty and her song, turned towards her and, one by one, she kissed them on their forehead. Their bodies shook slightly before transforming, becoming encased in the same fabric that she sported like a romantic toga. They seemed tied to her, following her around as she went to each person and bestowed them with a kiss. Before long, she had a mini army forming around her, and she had yet to say a word._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Was that it? Marinette asked herself. There had to be more than just singing and kissing. There had to be-_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________The akuma stretched her arms above her head and watched the crowd of people around her react. She took a deep breath, her chest expanding. The tendrils of cloth surrounding her became more tremulous, vibrating as they floated in the air. As she threw her hands to the side, a tremendous, ripping scream tore from her mouth, shattering every window in the square. The crowd of hypnotized people around her swelled with her power, every cloth swimming out violently before them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Ladybug really didn’t know what was happening, but there was very little time to get something done. This akuma had already recruited tens of people into her army. In no time, she could have enchanted hundreds of Parisians to do her bidding._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________With a whip of her yo-yo, Ladybug swung down into the square, landing several yards away from the screaming akuma. The sound was deafening, but she stood before it, ignoring the pain that sprung to her ears. When the woman stopped screaming, she stood straight up, staring down at Ladybug from her elevated position._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Marinette was tempted to say something quippy, but decided to leave the banter for after she kicked some ass._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________The small army of enchanted civilians turned to her when she landed, eyeing her up and down. The akuma’s scream halted and her disciples lurched into motion. Their fluid outfits contrasted their jerking movements as they drew closer to the red-clad superheroine, resembling zombies in a bad action movie. Without a word, she flung her yo-yo out before her in an arc horizontal to the ground, watching as it wrapped itself tightly around the group of hypnotized people that stood as a barrier in front of the akuma. With a flick of her wrist, they all, as a group, were sent flying to the other side of the courtyard, stopped with another flick just before they hit anything or sustained any injuries. They were still civilians, after all._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Lackies sidelined for the moment, Ladybug stared the girl down. It was odd, though. She hadn’t heard the akuma announce its name like they usually did. Instead, they stood and watched each other, waiting for the other to make a move._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________The girl’s arms floating above her head was the signal that she was about to scream, Ladybug quickly found out._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________As the akuma, who she had named Siren in her mind, screamed an ever-increasing pitch, Ladybug leapt out of the way. The sound followed her, but the impact was less direct and she didn’t get thrown back a hundred feet like the car she had moments before been in front of. Instead, she only felt her ears throbbing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________It was time to go, she decided. Siren stood tall in the middle of the square, and Ladybug stood from her position to start the show down. She aimed her yo-yo to wrap it around the arms of her opponent, the go-to trick to stopping her adversaries in their tracks, but as she rose her arm, the akuma fled._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________With a woosh of pearlescent fabric that shimmered gold and cream, Siren was off, sprinting faster than she should have been able to into a nearby building that had amazingly withstood most of the damage apparent on other facades._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Odd, thought Ladybug, but there’s no time to lose now._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________The building they entered had been evacuated like procedure called for. No doubt Siren was attempting to find a new army to use in her crusade against whoever she had a grudge with, and the lack of passersby really frustrated her. She ran, crashing through doors as she went, all while Ladybug stuck to her tail, keeping pace easily. It was only a matter of time before the akuma got tired out, and there was no damage to be done that couldn’t be reversed with her Miraculous’ healing powers._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________The damned akuma had more energy than she was anticipating, unfortunately. They had made it to the top of the building, having run through every floor in what had to have been a twenty story building, and still, the akuma was rearing to go. Going in the opposite direction that Ladybug was, but still going._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________They made it to a huge office space on the top floor, overlooking the courtyard below. Ladybug heard a sound she hadn’t heard in a long time: the beeping of her Miraculous. Her hand flew up to her ear. How long had it been since it had taken this long to beat an akuma? Was she losing her touch?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“I don’t have time for this,” she grumbled to herself, and locked eyes with the akuma, yelling out words that she hadn’t said in an even longer span of time: “Lucky Charm!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________The magic in her miraculous materialized before her, taking shape into a pair of goggles with switches on either side. “What?” she asked herself, suddenly remembering why she preferred to work without the confusing tactics of her lucky charm._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________While she remained confused and distracted, her battle opponent decided to strike. It wasn’t the best day for Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The full blast of Siren’s howl sent her flying back against the wall, shattering the glass that lined the walls of the building. Ladybug crashed against one of the only sections of wall that wasn’t made of glass, luckily not plummeting to her death in a rainstorm of sharpened death spears. You couldn't say she wasn’t lucky._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________As she recovered, the akuma advanced. Ladybug crouched at the ready, head throbbing, as she listened to the other sirens that began to wail around her. Red lights flashed in the room, and metal shields began descending over the windows. The defense system of the office building must have finally kicked in._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________There were a few companies that preferred to take their own measures to protect themselves from akuma, and they installed these barriers in all the windows to prevent tragedies. The shattering windows must have alerted them to their need, and they began going about their programmed actions automatically. Marinette had never been inside a building that had a system like this one before, and she most certainly had never been inside a building that had one while it was going off. As the grates finally made their descent, the only lights left in the room were the flashing hazards of the safety lights. Not quite the safety measure they should have been, with the disorienting flashing, but you couldn’t deny the effectiveness of the trap that Ladybug was now stuck in. Great._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________She held one hand over the yo-yo strapped at her hip, and the other gripped tight to the red and black spotted goggles that apparently would be useful any time now. Her earrings beeped again. Any. Time. Now._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________The akuma was advancing slowly, stalking her like prey, her rippling cloak-like fabric drawing Ladybug’s eye and distracting her from her target. The flashing of the red lights died her entire body a menacing crimson color as she came closer. The tint resembled all too closely the very same color that Ladybug sported._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Siren had finally made it over to where Ladybug crouched, ready to strike, and Ladybug noticed the gleaming sharpness of the nails on that girl. Damn. Those would hurt like a bitch. She scanned the rest of her body, looking for the akumatized object that she must have held. It should have been readily visible, purple against all of that white, creamy, thin fabric, but it remained illusive. Hidden._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Ladybug didn’t wait to find out. Swinging out her leg in front of her, she knocked the legs out from underneath the akuma, sending her toppling to the floor, and Ladybug sprung up, reversing their positions in a split second. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a glint of something dark nestled within the light materials of the akuma’s outfit. She ignored the dangerous talons attached to the girl as she went in to reach for the amulet strung around her neck. Another mistake to add to another great day._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________The akuma, lightning quick, grabbed Ladybug’s extended arm. Their eyes met for a split second and Ladybug cursed her rashness. This is what she got when she didn’t think things through. She should have known better. She should have-_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Her thoughts were cut short when she was flung across the room. Rapidly this time, the akuma followed her to where she landed, her head throbbing twice as hard now from the second assault and the headache inducing lights that swirled around them. Her recovery time was less than ideal as the akuma’s talons raked across her shoulder, tearing clean through the suit that was able to soak in virtually all damage done. Her body revolted against the assault and she leapt out of the way, clutching at her arm._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________The akuma was so fast, it was as if she appeared directly in front of Ladybug, arms raised for another blow._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________As quickly as she was there, the lights shut out. She didn’t question it as redness turned into pitch blackness, and Ladybug vaulted away from the swishing sound that indicated the akuma had swung her sharpened talons across the very spot she had just occupied. In her hands, the lenses of the goggles glowed a soft green._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Of fucking course. She was an idiot._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________She pulled the goggles on over her head and felt her eyes adjust from blinding red, to black, to newfound green. What a day. She saw the room clearly before her, watching the akuma swiping her arms out in front of her, trying to feel around for where Ladybug might be hiding. Her earrings beeped for the third time in as many minutes, and she had had just about enough._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________She whipped her yo-yo out before her, tying up the hands of the slashing akuma, and effectively rendered her harmless. She tried to scream again, but a swift kick to the diaphragm took care of that issue. As Siren lay doubled over, the amulet around her neck hung for Ladybug to grab._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________She smashed the cursed object and captured the fluttering purple butterfly that emerged, its wings sickly and pale in the light of her goggles._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Bye bye, little butterfly,” she whispered as she let the newly transformed butterfly materialize from her yo-yo. With another trade mark saying of “Miraculous Ladybug,” the goggles that had come in handy at just the right time - no surprise there, thanks to Tikki - summoned a swarm of ladybugs to reverse the damage the akuma had wrought. Just like that, everything was back to normal._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________The damage to the building had been cleaned up, the shattered windows were fixed, the hypnotized victims had been released from their spell. And Ladybug’s shoulder still bled. She ignored the obvious injury as she escorted the woman who once was Siren down to the square below to be looked at by paramedics. There usually wasn’t any damage sustained by the akumatized victims, nor to any other people involved in the attack after the healing magic of the Ladybug Miraculous had taken effect, but it was still nice that they checked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________She ignored the ache in her shoulder blade as she waved to reporters and fans with her good arm._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________She pretended she didn’t feel the blood slowly dripping down her back as it blended in with the fabric of her suit as she raced into a nearby alley to transform back. She winced against the pain that was suddenly amplified by the lack of magic encasing suit she wore. Magic was one hell of a drug._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Tikki flew out in front of her, fussing about her chosen’s face with worry. “Marinette, I’m so sorry, are you okay? I didn’t see it coming. I could have blocked it, but she was too fast, and I wasn’t- I healed it the best I could, but- I’m so sorry, Marinette!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Tikki!” the girl scolded lightly. “It’s fine. I promise.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________The little fairy flew behind her. The scratch had stopped bleeding already, and it hadn’t even soaked through her shirt yet. Truly, the injury wasn’t that bad. There was no need to worry._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“This looks bad, Marinette. You should get it looked at.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Tikki, please.” The kwami stopped in her fussing, looking up with big eyes at her chosen. “We need to get back to class. I forgot your cookies in my bag. Let’s go. Hop in.” She opened up the pocket sewed into her scarf especially for Tikki, and the fairy reluctantly flew in. Marinette covered the pocket with her hand, comforted by the feeling of her closest confidant nestled against her, then set out about getting a taxi and getting back to class._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________From leaving her class to finally making it back to pick up her stuff, Marinette only took about forty five minutes. The longest part was flagging down a taxi to bring her back to the campus. Damn things were illusive as fuck._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________The class was just ending by the time she made it into the room. She went straight to her pile of bags and jackets she had left if her spot, her computer still open and now completely drained of battery. It had been hell without the plushness of her favorite winter coat. Well, her second favorite next to the one that was being dry cleaned thanks to her incident the day before. Tikki dove into the bag of cookies that she kept hidden in the main pocket of Marinette’s backpack, along with several pillows to stay comfortable and warm outside of the scarf._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________She ducked out of the class with the stream of students who had actually attended that day’s lecture. Their eyes filled with renewed life as soon as they stepped outside the barrier of the classroom._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________She made it early to her next class, which suddenly had about fifteen more people than there should have been. They all sat surrounding Adrien, who had managed to get a seat in the very middle. He was suffocated by estrogen, and he seemed to be loving it. None of these people were actually in this class, were they? Marinette was sure she would have remembered some of the faces that had appeared there all of the sudden. There were now more students than there were chairs to seat them, so confused students who Marinette recognized to have _actually _been in the class previously stood around the edges of the class, unable to find a place to sit. They clasped their computer bags to their chests like lost puppies.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________Leroy must have noticed the same thing, as when she went to start the class, she looked up to see the class which was twice as full as it should have been._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“Excuse me.” She took a stance in the front of the room with arms crossed around her chest and eyes narrowed into slits. “But I don’t remember inviting guest speakers. What are you all doing in my classroom?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________Worried looks appeared across the faces of those who weren’t supposed to be there. They all leaned slightly closer to where Adrien was sitting. Leroy eyed the boy and understanding crept along the curve of her smile._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“I see.” She turned to the board and started writing something for that day’s lesson. When she turned back around, she looked up at the people who had yet to move. “Well?” They shuffled uncomfortably. “Out!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________With her shout, ten or so girls got up from their seats and scurried from the room with their bags, vacating enough seats for the students to sit. Marinette found a seat close to the front, away from the magnetism of the Agreste boy. Leroy shooed the rest of the stragglers from her room with a harsh glare at those she didn’t recognize. There were still girls who tried to feign innocence and stay attached to Adrien’s arm. It didn’t work._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________The lesson went on its way, over far too quickly for Marinette’s taste. It was honestly her favorite class. Professor Leroy was magical. To prove her divinity, at the end of the class, she offered an opportunity for anyone who was interested: In a group of two, make a cover of the new album of none other than Jagged Stone._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________Marinette’s breath literally hitched when she heard the name. Lery continued._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“That’s right. Jagged Stone is asking for a special cover for his newest album, of which he provided unreleased songs from to give you some inspiration.” Marinette was drooling. “Your task it to create three different covers with a partner and get them to me by the end of the month. It’s not an easy task, but the winner will receive…”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________Dear lord, Leroy just _say it_. Marinette’s heart was racing faster than it should have. She was more excited than she had ever been probably. No, definitely. This was the best thing that would ever happen to her. ___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________“Backstage passes and front row seats to the debut concert of his new tour this spring.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________Marinette nearly fell off her chair. Was anyone else this excited? Was she the only one? She could have been panting. What was this news that she was hearing? She wanted to scream._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________“The guidelines will be posted on my website for anyone who is interested. Keep in mind, students from my advanced classes will be participating as well, so you have some steep competition. See you guys next week.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________She didn’t get up from her seat. She went directly to professor Leroy’s website and clicked the link for the project, and she almost passed out from her hyperventilation. It was all right there, but she still barely believed it. She felt like she was gonna die. She felt her heart leaping. She felt a tap on her shoulder._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________Marinette turned around to face the person who was trying to get her attention. Adrien Agreste was becoming far too present in her life. Not that she minded. But still._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________“Hey Marinette.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________“Hey, what’s up.” Her body turned in her seat to face him. She could feel her cheeks heating slightly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________“Are you gonna do the competition?” He could see her monitor. Obviously she was interested._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________“Absolutely!” a wide smile spread across her face. “Jagged Stone is my favorite musician of all time. Any chance to be anywhere in his general vicinity would make my life.” She could see the endearing smile cracked across Adrien’s lips. “Not that I’m like, obsessed or anything like that. That would be weird. I just really like him and respect his music and his musical choices. I think he’s a really cool musician and I like his music a lot. I’m saying music too much I’m just gonna shut up now.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________A chuckle spilled from his chest and Marinette blushed harder than she thought possible. “I like him, too. Do you have a partner yet?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________She glanced back at her computer screen. It said right there: you needed a partner. “Dammit, no. I don’t.” She looked back at him. “Do you know anyone who might be interested?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________A flush came across his face. “Um, yeah. I actually don’t have a partner, either.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________“Oh.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________“Yeah.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________“So you wanna-?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________“I mean, if that’s okay?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________“Yeah, totally!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________“You’re sure?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________“Yeah, we both need partners, so… I guess. Yeah!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________“Cool.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________“Cool.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________They were left staring at each other awkwardly. It doesn’t really help to say that it was awkward, because really it was _embarrassingly, painfully, torturously _awkward. Marinette’s flush had been defused between the two of them, both sets of cheeks flaming pink. They looked anywhere but at each other.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“So… yeah.” Adrien started, his arm going up to scratch at the hairs at the back of his neck._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Yeah. Um- I’ll see you in ballroom.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________________“Yes!” he enthused, thankful for the escape from the conversation - the _very, very awkward conversation _. “I’ll see you then.”___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________“Okay, see you.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________“See you.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________“Bye.” Marinette waved a hand as he walked out the door. He waved back with a shy smile._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________Oh boy. She was in trouble._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was honestly blushing while writing that last part. My roommates are in the room and I'm trying not to cry. I love my children. 
> 
> This is a drawing of the akuma that I did because I fell in love with her and I want her to sing me to sleep every night. Feel free to redraw if you have any sort of artistry skill (unlike me. gross).  
> http://rescue-satellite.tumblr.com/post/151770704023/progress-shots-of-the-latest-akuma-who-i-have  
>    
> Thank you to everyone who supports my sad little habits of writing and hitting myself over the head with my computer. I truly appreciate every single one of you who has read these fics. I love you.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marinette is awesome. But we already knew that. Adrien didn't, though.

Ballroom was less awkward, but it was still significantly awkward. 

 

Adrien managed to lead her through several of the steps they were learning that day. She had no idea what she was doing, and she told him that many times. He always responded by tightening his grip around her waist (which didn’t help) and whispering into her ear (which didn’t help) that she was doing fine (which she obviously wasn’t, so that didn’t help either). They talked a little about their project, although it was a little difficult to do while they were so invested in spinning in circles and not tripping over one another. 

 

Marinette told herself that she didn’t mind every time she stumbled, because it meant that she was pushed just that much farther into him. She told herself she didn’t mind being pressed so hard against the brick wall of muscle that was compacted into that boy. She told herself that it was totally fine to be looking so deeply into a person’s green eyes. But then she remembered that those were impure thoughts and she should be ashamed of herself. 

 

She straightened her back and lifted her arms to uncomfortable angles, letting the leader of the pair twirl her through the giant studio. 

 

By the end of the class, everyone had a slight sheen of sweat across their brow, their breath huffing slightly more than usual. Marinette was usually fine, her actions as Ladybug making this seem like a walk in the park. Literally. However, now her heart was pounding in her chest like a broken grandfather clock, ricocheting around her ribcage. She told herself it was because of the tripping and constant battle to keep balance, but it was more likely who she was tripping into. 

 

She was going to hell. 

 

When they were dismissed to change, Marinette simply threw her sweaters and jackets on over her dance clothes. She had kept on a long sleeved tee shirt to prevent anyone from seeing the scratches across her back, and she didn’t feel much like changing if she were just going to her house, where she would have to shower anyway. She threw her bag over her shoulder and ignored the taunting laughter of Tikki, who just had to make a comment about her racing heart and constricted chest. 

 

Honestly, the little fairy got on her nerves sometimes. She was astute. Wise beyond her thousands years.

 

Shoulder barreling into the door to push it open, she struggled to put her gloves over her hands. The woolen fabric had shrunk slightly in the wash, only Marinette hadn’t anticipated the amount of shrinkage. Usually, the yarn she chose to knit with constricted only slightly, but with such a small garment, she had underestimated the impact. They were a little too small on her, so she struggled to get them on, but once they were secured around her hands, they were fine. She was walking down the hall, fussing with the little clasps on the wrists when she heard her name being called behind her. 

 

“Hey!” Adrien was half-jogging to catch up with her. 

 

He had completely changed. He was wearing a crisp white shirt that he must not have worn before that day, because it was just too dazzling, dark wash jeans that hugged his legs like a dream, cuffed over beautifully shiny, black leather boots that looked like they had just been polished. They probably had. His grey sweater was knit with charming argyle patterns across the breast, and he pulled on a long trench coat in the same grey with black gloved hands. He looked good. 

 

Marinette shook the thoughts from her head. Bad brain. 

 

“Hey,” she managed. She buried her face in her scarf as she pushed another set of doors open to step outside. The cold washed over her and she shivered, but Adrien seemed fine. “How are you not a popsicle right now?” 

 

“Warm blood,” he responded with a smile that she wanted so badly to- stop! Just because he was perfect didn't mean she could objectify him. She gave a smile back to him and tried to find words in her brain. 

 

“So-” she tried, but the cold must have been interfering with her synapses. 

 

“Oh!” he seemed to remember something and pulled out his phone, holding it out to her. “Can I get your number?”

 

Her brain stopped altogether. “Uh…” she looked him up and down, her breath halting in her chest.

 

“For the project?” What an innocent child. Talking to such a gutter-brained asshole. 

 

“Yes!” she called, breaking herself from her bad thoughts. Again. “The project! Of course! What else could you possibly have meant? I’ll get right on that.”

 

She grabbed the phone from his hands. Her gloved hands fumbled with the slick surface of the new phone. What was this? An IPhone 9? This boy…

 

The contacts screen was open and she tried to input her number through her gloves. She should have known better, obviously, that the screen wouldn’t pick up her touches, but it didn’t stop her from getting frustrated. Work, dammit! She tore one of her gloves off with her teeth and punched in her name and her number as swiftly as possible, handing the phone back to the smiling boy. 

 

“So, um…” she started. 

 

“Yeah.” He scratched the nape of his neck, the movement picking up the bottom edge of his tee shirt and showing a sliver of skin. Dear lord. 

 

“So, when do you think we should… you know? Um… start?” Words weren’t her strength at the moment. 

 

“Oh yeah!” He looked through his phone and tapped on his calendar, showing all of his available times. He was pretty much booked. The screen was full of appointments. There was one happening in no more than twenty minutes. “It looks like I’m free from three to five tomorrow?” 

 

Marinette thought for a second, then looked up with a smile. “Yeah, that works for me.”

 

“Great,” he clutched his phone in his hand, pointing to her with it. “Then… I’ll see you tomorrow.” He spread his arms out in an almost shrug-like gesture and gave her a slight wave with the hand his phone was in. The screen lit up as he walked away and he pressed it to the side of his face, taking a call.

 

Marinette waved after him, her chest fluttering. She was a mess. 

 

Alya agreed. 

 

“Someone’s in loooove,” she sing-songed. 

 

“Oh, my god, Alya. I will punch you if you keep this up.”

 

“I’m only saying what’s true.” 

 

“It’s not true!” Alya gave her a look, and she had to relent. “Fine! Maybe I have a little crush on literally the most attractive person in Paris - don’t give me that look, it was literally voted on. It’s scientifically proven that he is the most magnificent specimen to emerge from this cesspool of a city.”

 

“So you’ve been reading up.” Alya stopped at a red light and eyed Marinette over her shoulder. 

 

“He happens to be the son of one of the most renowned fashion designers in Paris and a famous model. I should know more about him that I do.”

 

Alya let out a snort and gunned it through the intersection as the light turned green. “That didn’t persuade you before. What’s changed?”

 

“God, Alya, you know what? I don’t need the reporter questions right now.” Her words were a little more harsh than she meant them to be. But only a little. 

 

“Alright, alright, girl. I get it. You don’t want me prying into your love life-”

 

“Non-existent love life-”

 

“Your non-existent love life. I’ll back off, silly.” She pulled the car up to the front of Marinette’s apartment complex and shifted into park. “I’m just saying. This is like… yup, this is the first time I’ve ever seen you this excited and crush-y about a boy. It’s exciting. I want you to be happy. Because I-”

 

“No!”

 

“I love-”

 

“Stop it with the emotions!” She feigned fighting off the words with her hands, putting them up like a shield in front of her. Alya knocked them down easily and pressed herself into Marinette’s face. 

 

“I love you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and you know it! And you love me! Admit it!”

 

“Never!” A devilish look came into Alya’s eyes. “No.” Her eyes narrowed into amber slits. “Alya, I swear to god, if you start tic-”

 

“Ah!” Alya cried and pounced on her friend, poking at her sides repeatedly, drawing out painful laughter from her friend. It was completely unfair, the torture of being tickled by Alya. She knew that it was Marinette’s only weakness, and she exploited it to her advantage every time she wanted something. Marinette squished herself up against the door to get as far away from her as possible, crossing her arms over her stomach. “Concede!” Alya shouted.

 

“Never! I don’t negotiate-” she could barely speak over her laughter. “-W-with terrorists!” she managed to squeak out. 

 

She held her sides to try and prevent the tickling, but Alya knew every spot on her body that was ticklish. Her knees, her sides, her elbows for whatever reason, her neck and armpits. And not that she could reach them right now, but Marinette was sure that if she were able, Alya would be attacking her feet. It was a terrible sleepover when Alya realized that the feet were Marinette’s weakness. 

 

“Admit that you love me and I stop!” Alya shouted over the giggling mass beneath her. 

 

“Oh, my god! Fine!” Marinette pushed her off. “I love you, you ass.” She began gathering her excess of jackets and her book bag.

 

“I love you, you dork.” Alya smiled smugly as Marinette slammed the car door. They flipped each other off lovingly and Marinette climbed the stairs to the complex door, then yet more stairs to her apartment. Her phone blinked seconds later. 

 

‘I’ll be back at nine to go to the bar, dork’ along with a heart emoji. 

 

Marinette looked at the clock. It was five o’clock. Four hours with nothing to do. She sighed and started stripping herself of her sweaters, jackets, layers and long underwear until she was standing in her chilly apartment in her wool socks and a white undershirt. She took her bra off skillfully from under her clothes and threw it onto her bed, sitting heavily in her desk chair. She spun several times with her head tilted back, staring up at the ceiling. What to do… what to do…

 

She looked at the post-it notes she kept above her desk of her tasks. One paper due for economics. Digital portfolio. The Jagged Stone Project. Research dance techniques. Complete her resume and submit to available internships. 

 

Her computer was old. Like second hand to a second hand store. It was probably the most expensive thing she owned, but it was also the one thing that she needed to replace above all else. Too bad she had literally no money in her savings account, so she dealt with it. 

 

The processor was painfully slow as she opened it and began searching for applications. Google took twenty full seconds to load available internships in Paris. Marinette wanted to scratch her eyes out by the time it finally loaded. 

 

Alright. Let’s do this. 

 

Within ten minutes, Marinette was falling asleep at her computer. Her cheek slipped off of the hand she used to prop it up and she was startled awake, gasping in surprise. “Fuck,” she whispered to herself and wiped the tiny line of drool that had accumulated in the seconds she was asleep. 

 

She looked at the clock. Seconds? More like hours. 

 

“Fuck!” 

 

Her blinking alarm clock read eight thirty. She jumped up from her chair and stripped completely, passing by where Tikki was sleeping soundly on her pillow on the bed. The fairy raised her head to look at her chosen, only to be hit in the face by a flying shirt. 

 

“Marinette!” the fairy complained. 

 

“Sorry, Tikki!” she yelled back as she hopped into the shower, rubbing off the accumulated sweat and dirt from the day. Scratches on her back yelled at her for the warm water that pelted them. She washed some of the blood off of her back and then jumped back out, almost slipping on the cold tile floor. “I’m gonna be late if I don’t hurry.” 

 

“Late for what?” 

 

“Alya’s picking me up in a half hour.” Marinette ran across the apartment naked, her bare feet slapping on the cold ground. She began pulling underwear and socks out from her dresser, pulling them on randomly. 

 

“We’re going out again?” Tikki yawned and settled back into the pillow. 

 

“Alya says so. And I don’t have an excuse, and I’m bored, so.” She shrugged while pulling on a bra. The lace peaked over the neckline of the black shirt she struggled into, creating a cute sweet-heart effect. Marinette checked her cleavage in the mirror and shrugged. Not bad. Not great but not bad. 

 

Tikki sighed and closed her eyes again. “Alright. Wake me up when you’re ready to go.”

 

“Why don’t you just stay here this time?” The kwami was always affected by the climate. The colder months made her drowsy and disoriented. “You look really tired.”

 

“You know I can’t, Marinette. What if something happens?” Her half-lidded blue eyes looked up to where Marinette was trying to mix cute and warm into her style. It was harder than it seemed, but eventually she gave up, slipped into a warm sweater, and sat down to do her makeup to revive the sad outfit. 

 

“What could possibly happen? Hawk moth never sends an akuma this soon after each other. They’re pretty consistent, actually. We should look into that.”

 

“I already have. There’s no pattern.” Tikki flew up to where Marinette was sitting at her desk, which doubled as her vanity. “But that’s exactly my point. He could strike at any moment. We always have to be prepared.” 

 

Marinette groaned into her eye liner. “I know.” She set down her pencil and rubbed the eye that had yet to be made up. “I’m just tired, you know? And you are, too. I can feel it in the suit. We need to get some rest, but Hawkmoth is relentless.”

 

“We just need a little help is all.”

 

“We do fine on our own, Tikki. We always have.”

 

“But you said it yourself, we’re tired.”

 

“That doesn't mean we need to bring in anyone else. I mean, we’re Ladybug! Right? We’re a superhero.”

 

“That doesn’t mean you can do everything.” Tikki floated in front of her face, staring very intently into her eyes. 

 

“I didn’t say that I could.”

 

She stared harder, getting her point across effectively enough without the use of words. Marinette sighed deeply and sunk her face into her hands. Honestly, she tried so hard to do everything. She wanted to prove to herself that she was worth it, but it never sunk in. For whatever reason, she always felt… helpless.

 

“I know, Tikki. I know. I’m trying. It’s just hard.”

 

“It was never supposed to be easy.” She settled a tiny hand on Marinette’s, cradling a finger. 

 

“Why did you choose me?”

 

The answer was immediate. “Because you can handle it.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

“Because I do. Because you have proven yourself, and nothing has changed, Marinette. You’re just as capable as the day we first met.”

 

Marinette thought back to that first day, where she questioned everything that she was when her classmate had been akumatized for the first time. She had been beyond unsure of herself. Every decision she made had been questioned before she could act on it. Every thought in her head was twisting into a mass of uncertainty. Only when she saw Alya about to get hurt, crushed by a projectile thrown by Stone Heart, did she act. Her instincts took in and she relied on them to lead her to protect those around her. Somehow, they did. She did. 

 

But now, after she had learned, after she had trained and had the experience to know what to do and what not to do, after seeing what pure instinct could do, she analysed everything. It wasn’t just enough to act your way through a situation. You had to think through it. And if your first thoughts failed, you had a back up, and a second and a third way to solve the situation. 

 

When she was going up against Siren, she hadn’t thought. There were no plans running through her head. She was just acting, and acting stupidly. She had the injuries to prove it. Luckily, Tikki’s healing magic worked to heal her wounds more quickly than she should be able to, and the scratches on her back were very close to being long scabs that would fade into scars. She had plenty of scars from her early battles with akuma, when she still relied on nothing but her gut. She couldn’t do that again. Physically, mentally, she couldn’t afford any more slip ups like the one with Siren. She had to focus. 

 

“No more doubting yourself, Marinette. It’s not good for you.”

 

She cupped her hand around the kwami in her hand, bringing her up to her lips to kiss her on the head. “No more doubting myself,” she confirmed the words, and they smiled. 

 

Marinette finished up her face of makeup and rushed out the door right as Alya texted her. Tikki was tucked happily in her purse, which had been stuffed with washcloths to make a bed and to prevent the crumbs that spilled from Tikki’s cookies from dirtying her favorite purses. She was wearing three layers on her legs, including her long underwear, a pair of thick tights, and her thickest pair of black and grey patterned leggings. Two pairs of long socks were stacked beneath her faux-fur-lined boots that came up mid calf and made her feet warm and happy. She layered her black shirt with a plain grey sweater and a fluffy white jacket, tying her neck with a bright green scarf that she had knitted with scalloped patterns. Her purse was the same green as the scarf, and she huffed it over her shoulder as she skipped down the steps to get out of her apartment. 

 

Alya was idling in the street, holding up a couple of cars. Marinette waved an apology to them as she entered the car, slamming the door closed with a shiver and greeting Alya with a smile as she started down the street. 

 

“I’m gonna do it.” Alya stated, staring intently at the road. 

 

“Wait, what?” 

 

“I’m gonna talk to him. I’m gonna do it. Why not, right? What’s the worst that could happen?” Her knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel so hard, but there was a huge grin spread across her face. Marinette caught the smile.

 

“You are? That’s awesome! Alya, finally!” 

 

“I know!” she almost shouted. She had been obsessing over Felix for how long? It was about time that she got the guts to go and talk to the dude she had a crush on for months. For a girl with so much confidence, she fizzled in front of men. It was a strange contradiction of her personality. The bar was approaching quickly as Alya sped down the street. “I’m just gonna do it. I’m just gonna go up to him and ask him. Because that’s what you do when you want to talk to someone, you talk to them. So I’m gonna talk to him. Holy shit, I’m gonna talk to him.” Her smile broke wider, if that was possible. Marinette laughed with her as they parked the car and escaped the cold by rushing into the warm bar. 

 

The pair stood in the doorway of the bar with a confidence in their shoulders. But as soon as Alya looked across the bar to where her desired conquest sat, as always, her smile broke. 

 

“I can’t do it.”

 

Marinette’s mouth gaped. “Excuse me. Yes you can!”

 

“I can’t.” Her body became liquid and she flung herself into Marinette’s arms. She looked up with big doggy eyes at her, exaggerating her fright. 

 

“You’re gonna, no matter what.”

 

“Marinette, don’t make me.”

 

“I’m gonna, no matter what. You’re gonna do it, and you’re gonna like it.” Marinette tried to shake the girl from her grip, but she was too strong. “Jesus, you’re heavy.”

 

“I don’t wannaaaaa,” she groaned. 

 

“Get off!” She chirped and Alya stood up on her own feet, slouching with a pout. “You just need a little liquid confidence, eh?” Marinette smirked over at Alya, who had changed her pout to a devious smile. “Is that a yes?”

 

Alya stood straight and took Marinette’s arm in hers like a royal couple. “Let’s do this.”

 

“Hell yeah!” 

 

“Hell yeah!”

 

Alya was a lightweight. 

 

By the time she had a shot and a half, she tipsy. Marinette thought she should go then, but Alya was still too insistent. She was just coherent enough to make a suitable argument, although it was mostly pulled out of her ass. Whatever. When she added an old fashioned, she was practically down for the count. For a girl who went out so often, she couldn’t hold her liquor for shit. Marinette sat next to her at the bar and sipped at a Lemondrop, watching the girl get more and more tipsy, until she was spinning on the bar stool like a five year old on a carousel. She was about to ask the bartender for another little somethin somethin, but Marinette cut her off. 

 

“It’s time, dude,” she told her over the raucous noise of the bar. “You should go now, before you make a fool of yourself.” 

 

Alya whined and pouted. “Do I have to?”

 

“This was your idea!” Marinette laughed. “You should be blaming yourself, dude.”

 

“I changed my mind.”

 

“No, you didn’t. You still want to, and you’re still gonna.” Marinette couldn’t keep the smile from her face. She shouldn’t have said she wanted to unless she was gonna, and she knew it. There was no way Marinette was going to let her out of the bar without having a half a conversation with that eboy she had been drooling over for longer than she had any right to. 

 

“Ugh!” Alya cried. “Fine, but I’m gonna complain the whole time.” 

 

She straightened herself off of the barstool and pulled the hem of her shirt down to cover the sliver of stomach that had peaked through and to show a little more cleavage. Not that she needed to show anymore - the girl had enough for two people - but it didn’t hurt. Marinette smacked her on the butt as she passed. 

 

“Go get ‘im, tiger.” 

 

Alya pumped her fists in the air as she walked, shoving people unceremoniously out of her way to get through the crowd. That girl was gonna get herself into trouble one of these days. Marinette watched her make her way through the crowd. They had seated themselves as close as possible to the target, but with the Friday night crowd, it was still about halfway across the bar. She could see Alya fixing her clothes as she walked, tugging and pulling at different parts to make sure she looked as good as possible. She looked hot, but that didn’t stop her from being self-conscious.

 

Several feet away from the dude, she stopped and stared. Marinette have her a thumbs up when she glanced across the bar at her, and she tried to return a grin, but she looked too nervous. She closed her eyes for a second and took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling hugely. She shook her head clear and opened her eyes, staring down the target. Marinette watched her transform into a flirt, her hip cocking, hair splayed across one shoulder, and half-lidded eyes. It was unfair that she was still able to look so good when she was this close to passing out on the barstool. 

 

Alya was the type of drunk that went from coherently pleasant and cheerful to passed out within the span of two sips of a drink. Marinette thought she had gotten drunk to the point of humorously flirty. It was the choice amount of drunk for Alya to pick people up. She had seen her go home with more people than she had any right to at that amount of drunk. The girl had a superpower that only kicked in after three shots. 

 

With one last readjustment of her boobs, Alya went in for the kill. She approached the sliver of bar right next to the dude who was typing at his computer, feigning a call to the bartender. She turned to look at the target and Marinette could see her smile and flip her hair over her shoulder as she talked. She wished she could hear what was being said, or at least the face of the guy she was talking to, but Alya’s plentiful hair made an effective barrier that was impossible to see through. Marinette went back to sipping her drink and waiting it out. 

 

“Marinette?” 

 

A familiar voice called behind her. She froze for a second before turning to look. Ah shit. 

 

“Adrien!” she spread her arms wide with greeting, almost tipping over the drink at the bar. She kept one elbow on the glossy surface to keep a respectable distance and to seem more laid back than she actually was. Because dear lord, whenever that boy walked into the room, her entire body went stiff and her mind went blank. 

 

“Hey, what’re you doing here?” Adrien, looking flawless as usual, walked up to the bar. He was with another guy, who walked up with him, who wore a red baseball cap and thick framed glasses. They both had on jeans and warm jackets, probably just having come in from outside. There was a dusting of white across their shoulders that they dusted off as they walked. 

 

“I’m with a friend, actually. We come here a lot. It’s a little after school, after work ritual.” She nodded like she knew what she was talking about, but she was making it up as she went. 

 

“Oh, where do you work?”

 

Fuck. “I don’t, actually. Looking, but haven’t found anything as of yet.” She smiled thinly and took a long drag of her drink. She used to opportunity to look back at Alya, who seemed to be doing well. She laughed heartily and flipped her hair again. She caught a glimpse of the guy she was talking to. He was smiling broadly, and had turned completely away from his work at his computer. Marinette grinned for her and turned back to Adrien, who was a lot closer than he was seconds ago. The crowd of the bar had pushed everyone into compact spaces, and their knees were almost touching. “Who’s this?” she gestured to the guy behind him, distracting herself from his proximity. . 

 

“Hi, I’m Nino,” he waved. 

 

“This is Nino,” Adrien repeated. 

 

Marinette nodded awkwardly and went in to shake his hand. “Hey, Nino. Marinette. Nice to meet you.”

 

Nino made the gesture like he didn’t catch her name, so she pronounced it very clearly. He grinned and shook her hand again. “Nice to meet you, Marionette.”

 

“Just Marinette. Without the ‘o’,” she corrected. 

 

“Marinette.”

 

“Right.”

 

He smiled with a blush and an apology. 

 

“It’s fine. It’s not a very common name, so…” she trailed off. God, why did she have to be so awkward. She tried to revive the conversation. “What’re you guys up to?” 

 

Adrien spoke first. “Nino’s showing me around. I don’t really know this part of Paris very well, but he’s practically an expert.”

 

“That’s me. The expert of cheap bars in the east of Paris. Ask me where the closest baguette place is and I’ve got nothing. But bars with student discounts? I’m all about it.” Marinette smiled broadly. He was kinda cute. And a lot easier to talk to than the other point of interest standing not a foot in front of her. Her knee brushed against his thigh every once in awhile and she froze. 

 

“Do you come here often?” she asked tilting her head to the side.

 

“Pretty often. I like some other places better, but this one has the biggest student discount, so I like it a lot.” 

 

Marinette chuckled. “Yeah, that’s the only reason I come here.” She picked up her drink from the counter and leaned forward a little bit, inserting herself in their little group. “If I can get drunk for cheap, it’s a good night.”

 

“You’ve got that right.”

 

“Cheers,” they laughed. 

 

Adrien leaned over Marinette to ask the bartender a question, inches from her. She shied away from him as he ordered a drink, but she couldn't help but feel the heat coming from his body, or the smell, like the rain on flowers. It cut through all other smells in the bar, the alcohol and sweat and heady perfume. She had to stop herself from tilting closer to him. She wanted to follow him as he stood upright again, having successfully ordered something from the bar. 

 

She felt his absence like a cold wind. It was most likely the draft coming from the door that had just opened. She ignored the feeling of butterflies fluttering in her stomach. 

 

“So how do you guys know each other?” Decent segue. Nice job, Marinette. 

 

Adrien and Nino looked at each other as confirmation and Adrien turned to speak. “We’ve known each other a little from the events that we’ve gone to. He DJs at a lot of nightclubs and stuff that my dad has events at to make his brand look ‘hip and with it.’” He added finger quotes around the words. “He’s like, my only friend.” 

 

“Dude, that’s not true, don’t say that. That’s so depressing.” Nino smacked him across the shoulder, trying to get a grin. Adrien relented and grinned shyly. 

 

“Alright, not my only friend. Just my closest friend.”

 

“I’ll take it,” Nino smiled. “How do you two know each other?” A smirk came across his face that Marinette wasn’t sure she was comfortable with. Was it that obvious that she had a giant, gaping, disgusting ax wound of a crush on the model who was standing closer and closer to her with every passing minute? Was it that obvious that she thought of him at least once a day, if not all day? Was she really that see through?

 

Probably.

 

“We go to school together. We have a couple classes, actually, that we share.”

 

“Oh, cool,” Nino smiled. “What’re you studying?”

 

“Fashion business and design,” she responded quickly, having the phrase memorized, practiced and rehearsed several times a day. Sometimes she told herself in front of a mirror, just to reassure herself. 

 

“That’s so cool,” Adrien blurted. 

 

“Really? I mean, you’re in the business.” Marinette was suddenly self-conscious that she was standing next to a dude who had grown into his career. He was destined for a life in fashion ever since his father decided he was going to become the biggest name in fashion since Versace. He didn’t even have to lift a finger to become famous, and here she was, unemployed and desperately searching for a company that would take pity on her, or see some sort of creative genius. Or really maybe just someone who needed a coffee runner. She could do that. 

 

“Yeah, but it’s still cool to see people doing what they’re passionate about.” His smile speared through her. She could feel it like a punch in her gut. Her gaze fell from his sincere interest to her drink. 

 

She took a sip to try and hide her smile, but the glass wasn’t enough to do the trick. She turned her head away, looking over her shoulder to where Alya was still - still - talking to the dude at the back of the bar. Both of them had huge flirty looks on their faces, seeing nothing but one another. Alya must have felt Marinette looking, because she turned to meet her gaze. 

 

Marinette gave a thumbs up to her friend, and Alya nearly bounced up and down with excitement before turning back to flirt some more. 

 

The two boys next to her must have noticed her shifting attention, because Nino spoke up. “Is that your friend?” His tone was trying to be more nonchalant than curious, but Marinette could pick up what he was trying to hide. 

 

“Yeah.” She was going to say what he said next, but he got the jump. Damn him. 

 

“She’s hot.”

 

“Yeah.” She turned to look at the two boys looking across the bar at Alya, still shamelessly flirting with a stranger. “She’s single, too.” 

 

Nino blushed furiously. His gaze averted from hers and he started fidgeting with his hands. “Ah, she looks pretty busy if you ask me.” Marinette looked back. Alya flipped her hair yet again and was leaning on the bar with one elbow, far closer to him than she should have been. Mr. Mystery or whatever had a glint in his eye that matched the tint of his smile. He leaned in closer to her, too. 

 

“Yeah, she does, doesn’t she?” Marinette grinned proudly for her friend. “God, she’s good.” 

 

Alya passed her phone over to him and he punched his number in. She texted it immediately and he held his phone up to show that he hadn’t given her a fake number. They both smiled. Marinette expected the conversation to be done there. They would talk later, set up a date, see each other whenever. But Alya just kept on talking. The girl could go on forever, but he didn’t seem to mind. 

 

Marinette turned back to her own object of affection, who had decided to lean over her yet again to grab the drinks from the bartender. Leave it to Friday night rushes to make finding two beers take five minutes. The place was too packed for its own good. 

 

Adrien passed the second beer over to Nino and they both took big swigs. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but Marinette’s heart was too fragile to continue this conversation. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

 

His mouth floundered for a couple of seconds before he could respond, trying to find the words. “Um, yeah. See you.” They all waved goodbye again, Nino and Marinette looking cordially at each other without too much friendliness. It was the beginning of a life long friendship, that one. She watched them make their way through the crowd, trying to find a place to stand among the increasingly drunken masses. 

 

Marinette turned back to her drink and settled her elbows on the bar to watch Alya at work. How the girl still had a conversation going with this dude was beyond her, but the girl had some crazy talents. The alcohol probably helped. 

 

A space beside her was vacated by two college girls, and swiftly taken over by a mostly drunk man in his late thirties. There was only one reason someone as old as him was at a bar for college people, and Marinette was not about that life. Nevertheless, he bent in far closer to her than he had any right to, breathing stinking breath all over her. 

 

“Hey, baby. What’re you doing here all alone?” He smelled like old tobacco and stale booze. Great combo. 

 

Marinette thought of not responding, but found letting them down easy had a greater rate of success. And a lesser rate of murder. Nevertheless, she didn’t meet his eye. 

 

“I’m not alone. I’m here with my boyfriend.” 

 

He laughed heartily, like she had made the greatest joke he had heard in years. The beer clenched in his fist was emptied with one last swig, and he motioned to the bartender to give him another one. “Oh, I’ve heard that one before. Come on, don’t be like that. You’re far too pretty to be alone on a Friday night.”

 

She turned to him now, fire in her eyes. “And yet, here I am. Literally surrounded by people and minding my own goddamned business. I suggest you do the same, as I’m not interested. Good night.” It was time to leave now. She abandoned her drink on the bar and grabbed both hers and Alya’s things off of the bar stool, ready to find her friend and get out of there. He, of course, had other plans. 

 

“Don’t be like that,” he said for the second time as he grabbed her arm. Frustration boiled in her chest. She really didn’t want to deal with this. She tried to pull away, but he was stronger than he looked. 

 

She looked back at him. “Look, dude. I really don’t want to hurt you. I suggest letting me go.”

 

He pulled her closer with a growl. His breath smelled worse up close. “You speak my language, girly. I like ‘em feisty.” She almost gagged. She tore her arm away from his grip and, with her newly freed limb, backhanded him across the face. The noise cut through the clatter of the bar and Marinette took the pause of his shock to make her escape. She slipped quickly through the crowd of people who had their eyes on her and made her way to the door. She only hoped that Alya had seen or heard the incident and was making her way as well. 

 

What Marinette hated worse than akuma were drunken men who couldn’t take a hint. She made it outside, took out her phone, and was just about to text Alya to get her ass out there when the door opened behind her. God dammit. 

 

The side of his face was still red, lips split slightly. A line of red cut down his chin. His cheeks were flushed in a mix of embarrassment and anger. 

 

She was fucked. Heat rushed through her veins as he spotted her and approached. His feet stomped across the cold ground, his advancement creating little eddies in the snow falling behind him. The white powder that landed on him melted quickly. 

 

Marinette stood her ground in front of him. If he was gonna try something, she was gonna respond. 

 

“I don’t like being embarrassed, sweetie.” 

 

“Well you should get used to it. I see a lot of it in your future. Grown man hitting on college girls in a seedy bar.” She tisked. “You’re gonna get yourself in trouble.”

 

Before he could answer the bar door opened again. Adrien’s white gold hair was haloed in the light from the bar as he looked around, spotting her with concern plastered on his face. “Are you okay?” he called. Bless his distraction. 

 

“I’m fine, sweetie,” she articulated back, praying he would take the hint. Addressing the jackass in front of her, she spoke so Adrien could hear her. “I told you, I’m here with my boyfriend.” Acknowledgement flashed in Adrien’s eyes and she took a breath. 

 

The drunkard turned to look at the muscular dude who was at least a head taller than he was, but he wasn’t deterred. Granted, he had about a hundred pounds on Adrien, which meant he had at least a hundred fifty pounds on Marinette. She wasn’t deterred either. 

 

“This is your boyfriend?” he slurred. 

 

Marinette nodded as Adrien did. He walked over to her and slung his arm across her shoulder. She nestled into his body like they did this all the time. She ignored how nice it felt to be against the warmth of his body without a coat on. She hadn’t had time to put on any of the layers she held in her hands. “I am,” he said for her. 

 

The dude shook his head, just not getting it. “You’re too good for him, honey.” 

 

“You know, I keep telling him that, but he doesn't seem to get the message. It seems you and him have something in common.” She could feel the chuckle in Adrien’s chest. 

 

Desperate now, he made a move he shouldn’t have. “Come on, baby. You can do so much better.” He reached his hand out to grab her again, but her hands were too full for her to defend herself. Instead, Adrien smacked his hand away. She saw a moment of tension pass between the two men’s faces, and she dropped the clothes she was holding, preparing for what was about to come.

 

The older man’s arm revved up behind him, getting ready to throw a punch. His stance was completely off balance as he leaned back to try and give himself more power, obviously inexperienced. At the same time, Adrien was going on the offense as well, much quicker than the drunken man before him. His free hand by his side made a fist and was going for a punch in the gut, but Marinette had different plans. Both of them may have had double the weight that she did, but she had strength and skill and speed. 

 

In the blink of an eye, she shot her hand out to prevent Adrien from punching his opponent, directing his fist to the side so he would spin away. His body was directed toward the bar and his unchecked momentum brought his entire body into the punch, tripping over himself. By that time, his opponent’s fist was coming for the vacated space that would have been Adrien’s face. Instead of hitting flesh, he whiffed through air, allowing Marinette to grab his arm and twist it behind his back, pushing it up to cause as much pain as possible to the asshole. 

 

Instead of a fist fight, Adrien was now stumbling to catch his balance and his adversary was pinned, Marinette bent over him to whisper in his ear. Alya and Nino had appeared outside, along with a small crowd from the bar. They had stopped in their tracks seeing a girl pin a dude more than twice her size in the most vulnerable position one could be in. 

 

“You know, I could break you arm,” she told him, her voice just for his ears. There were brimming tears in his eyes as she pushed upward to prove her point, his arm cracking slightly beneath her. She could feel how hard she had to press to do what she told him. “It’s really easy. But I’m feeling annoyingly merciful today, so I’m gonna let you go.” His breath came out in a relieved, painful burst. “So what’s gonna happen is, I’m gonna release your arm, you’re gonna walk away, and you’re never gonna come to this bar again. Is that a deal?”

 

He didn’t respond, so Marinette pushed a little harder into his arm, eliciting a yelp of pain. 

 

“Is that. A. Deal?” She said through gritted teeth. 

 

He nodded frantically, the tears finally running down his face. 

 

“Good. I’m gonna let you go now.” She stepped away from him, releasing his arm from her grasp and he stumbled forward towards the group that had assembled to watch the show. He caught his balance and looked back at Marinette, who was standing with fists at her side and a clenched jaw. He looked between her and Adrien, who had righted himself and stood behind her, and shook his head. 

 

Without another word, he started walking away, pushing people in the crowd out of his path to make his escape. With his absence, the crowd woke up. Half of them were disappointed they hadn’t witnessed a fight, some even putting their phones back in their pockets. Others looked pleased that no one got hit in the face. 

 

Well… no one that didn’t deserve it anyway. 

 

Alya ran over to Marinette and hugged her tightly. “Oh my god, girl. Are you alright?” Marinette hugged her back, more peeved than hurt. 

 

“Yeah, you know I’m fine. I just hate guys like that. They’re so annoying.” They pulled away and a smile appeared on her face. “Speaking of guys.” Her eyebrows wiggled, the subject change flying over Alya’s drunken head. Usually, it would not stand. The reporter would need to extract every detail, but she was too invested in her own story to really care. 

 

Alya blushed hard and tried to hide her face in her hands. “I know!” she was practically buzzing. “He’s so cute, right? His name is Felix and he’s a senior trying to finish his thesis, that’s why he’s always writing here. The bar is really close to his house, so he comes here a lot.” She began rattling on about all the things she had learned about him, a smile on her face the whole time. Suddenly, the grin dropped from her face and she looked past her shoulder. 

 

Marinette turned to where Adrien was still standing, looking at her. She took a step towards him. 

 

“Hey, you okay?” 

 

He nodded absently, then came back to reality. “Yeah,” he said, scratching at the back of his neck. “I’ve just never been in a fight before.”

 

She chuckled. “I mean, you weren’t, technically. I blocked all the punches, so…” she smiled to herself. He grinned, too. 

 

“Yeah, how did you do that?” 

 

She looked behind her, distracting herself slightly, looking for an answer. Alya had the same raised-eyebrow, shit-eating grin that Marinette had just used against her. “Quick reflexes, I guess.” She bent down to pick up the fallen jackets that had been abandoned. Tikki was in the purse on the ground. Marinette was sure she wouldn’t appreciate being left on the cold asphalt. Marinette wrapped a warm hand against the bag to lend some warmth. 

 

“Yeah,” Adrien said again, absently. He must have been thinking through the short fight. There wasn’t much to think about, Marinette thought. But he had lead a sheltered life. 

 

“This is the first action you’ve seen in a long time, huh?” 

 

A smirk appeared on his face. “I’ve never been called someone’s boyfriend before, that’s for sure.” 

 

Marinette’s face heated up. “Right. Sorry about that. It’s just… you know. Guys like that can’t take a hint, so you gotta do what you gotta do. And I guess he really couldn't take a hint, so he had to take a hit.” She giggled nervously. 

 

Alya appeared next to them suddenly, trying and failing to reach clandestinely to get her jacket from the bundle in Marinette’s hands. The couple broke from their conversation and Marinette began to address Alya, giving her the items of clothing that she held. 

 

“I guess it’s time to go home, huh?” 

 

Alya nodded vigorously. “I’m a little chilly. I got done what needed to get done-”

 

“Finally, may I add.”

 

“You may not. And now it’s time to go home.” Alya smiled to Adrien and stuck out her hand for a shake. “Alya, best friend of Marinette. Greatest human you will ever meet.”

 

“Very drunk. Very sleepy human,” Marinette added, letting them shake hands briefly before pulling her away. She couldn’t have her saying anything embarrassing. “A very needs-to-go-home human.” 

 

Alya leaned heavily into her. “I’m so tired,” she breathed. 

 

“I know.” Marinette patted her head and waved goodbye to Adrien. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I gotta get this lump home.”

 

“Yeah, I’ll see you.” 

 

“See you.” 

 

“Bye.”

 

Marinette managed to get Alya in the back seat of the car. She didn’t know how she had gone from coherent to black out so quickly, but it was a special talent. Marinette drove much more legally than she did, so they made worse time home than usual, but it allowed Alya to get a little nap. She was snoring by the time they turned the corner of the bar. 

 

Marinette slung her across her shoulder to get her up the stairs to her apartment, regretting how heavy she was. The suit made everything so much easier. Without the magical powers running through her, she felt so much weaker. No matter, she lugged her sleepy friend all the way up three flights of stairs and collapsed her onto her bed. 

 

Alya was slightly coherent and thanked Marinette. 

 

“No problem, sweetie.”

 

Alya grabbed Marinette’s arm and brought her close to her face. “Hey, girl.”

 

“Hey, what?”

 

A sly smirk spread across her face. “You looove him,” she slurred. 

 

Marinette giggled and pushed away with a blush. “I swear to god.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :):):):):):):):):):)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marinette can't handle boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't updated in over a month!!! I'm so sorry, I've been soooo busy. I-wrote-two-final-papers-in-two-days kind of busy. So here's an unedited chapter because editing takes even more time and I really wanted you guys to have something this weekend. Technically it's still Saturday even though we only have twenty minutes left in the day! I love you guys a whole bunch! Enjoy!

‘Where are we meeting’ 

 

Marinette typed into her phone, sending the message off to Adrien Agreste, someone she never would have expected she would be sending a message to so casually. And about meeting up with him, too. The simple text made her chest flutter and she forced herself to calm down. 

 

A text blipped back several seconds later, and she squealed a little into the phone. “He answered! Alya, he answered!” She was talking to with Marinette from home, where she was typing away at a story that had to be done for the next day’s edition of the paper she worked on. Marinette rarely ever saw her doing her work, but she must have been the world’s fastest typist, because the girl turned out stories like no other. 

 

“Of course he answered, girl. You two are destined for each other.” Marinette scolded the phone, though she knew the girl on the other end wouldn’t be able to see. “Don’t give me that look,” Alya scolded back, and Marinette looked around her quickly, scanning for some camera or other device that Alya would be able to see her on. 

 

“Are we FaceTime-ing right now?” 

 

A chuckle came through the speaker. “Nah, girl. I just know you. Now respond to the boy! Don’t keep him waiting.”

 

Marinette squeaked and looked at the phone in her hands, tapping her fingers over the screen to unlock the message. 

 

‘I know this little cafe with free wifi and good coffee’ he responded. 

 

“Alya!” she shouted. 

 

“What!” 

 

“He respects boundaries! He isn’t inviting me over or asking to come over. Neutral location! Neutral location!” It wouldn't have been that big a deal if Marinette weren’t just complaining about another group project with a dude twice her age who wanted to meet at his home in the middle of the seedy part of town. She had turned him down without batting an eye, claiming that she was getting sick and they should just call each other instead. He had been bitter the whole time they spoke. 

 

“That’s great!” She could be heard typing rapidly through the phone, somehow able to multitask dealing with her troubled friend and getting her work done on time. The girl was truly magical. “But why are you so excited about not being invited over to his house? Don’t you want to check out how cool the ceiling above his bed is?” 

 

Marinette wanted to chuck her phone, but it was her lifeline to Adrien. “I can’t do this right now. I have some finessing to do.”

 

“Oh. My god.” Alya scoffed. “You’re gonna finesse something? Really?” 

 

Marinette stuck her tongue out at the phone, suddenly a thirteen year old again. “I can finesse fine, thank you very much.” She looked down at the screen of her phone, thumbs twitching. “Now what should I say?”

 

Alya laughed heartily. 

 

“I’m not kidding! I’m useless at this stuff. You know that.”

 

“I do,” Alya wheezed. She sounded distant from the phone, like she was covering her face or taking it away to wipe gleeful tears from her eyes. “I know that. I’m just glad that you’ve finally acknowledged it.” Marinette continued her pacing around the room, studying her screen. “You have to say something.”

 

“Shh.” She bit her lip, almost so hard that it hurt. “Do I say ‘I love coffee and free wifi’? Or is that too much? Because I feel like that’s a little desperate, like I’m trying to please him or something, which I’m totally not. Or do I say something like ‘That sounds great’? Is that too generic? I feel like that’s a little too generic for something like this. I don’t wanna seem disinterested. Oh my god. What if he thinks that I don’t like him at all. No no no no. I have to fix this. He can’t think I don’t like him that defeats the whole purpose oh my god he totally thinks I hate him and now he’s gonna hate me forever Alya what do I do please help me!”

 

“My god! Slow down girl. He doesn't hate you! Why would you think that?” Marinette tapped her head to her phone repeatedly as if she could beat the answer into her skull. “Just say, ‘That sounds great. What time?’ That’s it. Okay?”

 

Marinette slumped over onto her couch. The stuffing was coming out at the seams, but she was always forgetting to sew it back together. She needed stronger thread for the job, or to take it in, but she couldn’t afford either of those things at the moment. She could barely afford breakfast. “Okay,” she said as she typed in the scripted message, tapping the go button. “It’s sent.”

 

“See. Was that so hard? You just need to calm down. Jesus, girl. I haven't seen you like this since you were in lycée.” 

 

Marinette dug her head into the couch. “Yeah, well a lot of things have changed since lycée.” 

 

Alya’s voice was suddenly soft. “Marinette,” she breathed as the phone blipped. 

 

Marinette opened the phone quickly, her screen opening up to the chat with Adrien. So far, there were only four messages between the two, not even enough for Marinette to have to scroll up to see all of them. “He says, ‘I’m free between three and five. Whatever time is good for you.’” Half of her face was still buried in the couch cushions, making talking hard, so she mumbled instead.

 

A bright light filled up her chest and made its way into her face, bringing a sheen of pinkness across her cheeks with it. The thought of meeting up with him made her want to squeal. She felt like a middle schooler trying to flirt with her crush - unsure and floundering and excited. It didn’t help that Adrien Agreste was a beautiful, famous model who had half of the city pining after him. 

 

Adding herself to that mix would probably be stifling to him. He probably had girls hitting on him all the time. Guys, too. She saw the way girls sat with him during his classes, taking time out of their day to sit around him, some even holding onto him like a lifeline. She noticed the way people stared at him while he walked down the hallway, like he was some kind of angel fallen to earth. She saw how people ran up to him in the middle of walking to classes, holding cameras and posters and slips of paper for him to sign. The novelty had yet to wear off for most on campus. And there were still a lot of people who wanted autographs. 

 

She couldn’t imagine having to go all day like that. After defeating akumas, she often talked to reporters and the like, blinking away the flashes of their cameras, waving and smiling to passerby. She had to be polite and heroic, putting on a face to those who watched her. Even while she was fighting, people took pictures, completely neglecting their safety over the chance to snap a picture of her in action. 

 

But at the end of the day, she got to take the suit off. What was it like, watching your step and every move to make sure no one caught a glimpse of you that was anything less than flattering. Not that someone would ever catch a moment like that from Adrien, but…

 

Was she doing the same thing? Was she idolizing him?

 

But this was different. He initiated conversation. He asked her to be his partner. She wasn’t going out of her way to be something that she wasn’t, or to spend more time with him than she had any right to. 

 

This was friendship. That was all. 

 

She decided right then and there. She couldn’t act like a love sick puppy. That would ruin the whole thing. 

 

“Hmm,” Alya hummed through the phone, interrupting Marinette’s rapidly-moving train of thought. “‘Whatever time is good for you,’ eh? Well, you have to make sure that he doesn't know that you want to spend every moment possible with him, which you do, because you guys need to get married. So we’re gonna play this cool.”

 

“Right,” Marinette echoed, pushing herself off of the couch and into a sitting position, her feet curled under her as she cradled her phone in both hands. She ignored the quip about marriage and tapped the sides of the pink casing around her phone. “Play it cool. Play it cool. Cool. Gotta play it. Cool.” 

 

“Marinette?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Shut up and text the boy.” 

 

Well, there goes any hope of acting normal around him. Even the thought of texting him was daunting. What was she gonna do when he was in front of her, being perfect. 

 

Shut up. He’s a human. He’s not perfect, she told herself, while wiping drool from her chin. “Alya!” she cried, slumping backwards to stare at the ceiling. “What do I _do_?”

 

The exasperated sigh was not lost on her ears. “Alright, girl. We’re playing it cool, right?”

 

“Yeah, but I’m not cool. You’re cool. Tell me what to do, I’m drowning in a sea of thoughts,” she said, in that voice that made fun of ‘deep’ people who wanted to sound poetic and philosophical. 

 

“First lesson in being cool,” Alya said, her fingers still typing away on her computer. “Never say that again. Second!” she said over Marinette’s groan, adding the same faux-poetic lilt to her voice. “Believe in yourself and all will turn out fine.” 

 

“I was wrong to think that you’re cool.”

 

“Yeah, we’re both kinda nerds.”

 

“Tell me about it. But more importantly, tell me what to write. It’s been like three minutes and I haven’t said anything.” Her fingers worked at the edges of the phone case, where they were worn from past nervous rubbing. 

 

The typing across the line stopped. “What did he say again?” Marinette repeated the text to her. “Okay. Well, we want him to think that he set it up, because boys like being in control or whatever. But we’re always the ones in control I don’t understand why people don’t just deal with it. Whatever. So say something like, ‘Then I’ll see you at three,’ or ‘Three it is,’ or something cute like that.”

 

Marinette thought for a second before typing something out on her phone. “How about, ‘Three is great.’ Is that okay? Does it sound too short? Maybe-”

 

“That’s perfect, girl.” Alya had to interrupt her before she went on another tangent. Her mind was her worst enemy as Marinette. “Send it into the ether and let him respond. You take too long.” The playful tint was back in her voice as she teased her friend. 

 

“ _You_ take too long.”

 

“Ouch,” Alya dead-panned. “That really stung. That was a good one.”

 

“I know, I’m such a bitch.”

 

“You really are. You need to watch that attitude.”

 

“Sorry, I can’t hel-” her phone beeped again, and all conversation ceased until the message was read. Over the next couple of minutes of figuring out the coolest way to send a five word message, they had confirmed a time, date, and location. Marinette was kept from hyperventilating on several occasions thanks to Alya’s coaching. 

 

At one, Marinette started getting ready with the same vigor she would have if she were going on a hot date. Not that she thought this would, in any way, change the fact that she was not going to hit on the boy. But no matter how hard she tried to ignore Alya’s suggestions that they were going to get married and, she wanted some sort of relationship with him, no matter what it was. And if he just happened to fall head over heals in love with her because her cheeks were perfectly contoured then that would be that. 

 

She showered quickly, shaving and washing her hair was fast as humanly possible while still taking care not to cut herself around the more difficult parts of her ankles and knees. She washed her face, moisturized every part of her body, spritzed a little bit of perfume here and there so it wouldn’t be too overbearing in an hour - because she had to make sure she didn’t look like she was trying too hard. She blow dried and brushed her hair so the wavy curls looked exactly how she wanted them to, then put a little bit of product in them to make sure they held even after she put a hat on over them. No matter what, she was not going to sacrifice her warmth to impress someone. That’s where she drew the line. 

 

She sat in front of a mirror for an hour, making sure every part of her face looked like she wanted it. In the end, she looked like a snapchat filter. Nude lips, contoured cheeks, slightly shimmery blush, just a touch of bronze eyeshadow and jet black eyeliner. She admired herself in the mirror, the subtlety of her makeup an art in and of itself. 

 

“Well?” she asked Tikki, who had been snoozing on the heated blanket on her bed. The fairy rose her head and smiled at her chosen. 

 

“You look great, Marinette.”

 

She beamed, then set about dressing herself. After another half hour of picking over what she would wear, she finally settled on a mostly neutral base with a large pink overcoat. Her cable knit cream scarf with a built in pocket for Tikki would wrap itself stylishly around her neck, and the outfit would be complete. 

 

The reflection of her mirror was her worst enemy. Staring at herself, she picked apart every piece of her appearance. She wasn’t usually this unsure of herself. It was a cute outfit. Her makeup was perfect. Her boots had recently gotten a rigorous polish. What did she have to critique?

 

A glance at the clock told her she had precious little time to fret before she had to get going. With one last look in the mirror, she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and made her way to the door. 

 

The cold outside was suddenly more daunting than it should have been. She wanted to stay home and escape from it. What was wrong with her?

 

This was wrong, she told herself. Something in her stomach told her she needed to change. Who was she trying to impress. What was she trying to prove. Why did she crave validation so much from a boy she knew so little about. Questions zipped through her head, all culminating into the final realization that this was _wrong_.

 

A second glance at the clock. She had five minutes before she would be late. 

 

She high tailed it around her tiny apartment, wiping off most of her makeup while constructing a new outfit that was more comfortable, less stylish, and more her. No matter what she designed, the clothes she wore were always comfortable. She didn’t care much what she looked like, and that’s when it struck her why her previous outfit was so wrong. 

 

It wasn’t her. She was trying to sell something that was completely false. A shadow box of what she really was. 

 

Within the five minutes allotted, she was able to pull together a completely new outfit, and wipe off most of her makeup. Her eyeshadow and liner remained, but the caked foundation, contouring, lip color were replaced with a simple coat of chapstick across her lips. 

 

She kept the large pink overcoat, because pink was her trademark, and rushed for the door. 

 

Metro transportation was quite possibly her least favorite form of travel, but it was the only way to get from one side of the city to the other in a timely fashion. So she sprinted to the nearest terminal and hopped aboard the train that was headed in her direction. She should have requested a cafe a little closer to home to prevent her from getting lost, but she hadn't thought that far ahead. 

 

So, with only an hour to spare before her meeting, she spent a good forty five minutes being lost. Gloved fingers took their sweet time typing in the address to the cafe, only to discover that she was no less than five blocks from her destination, with ten minutes before three. She huffed her way through the slowly thickening snow, brushing away the flakes that fell into her eyelashes. 

 

The lights of the city were turned on to allow light that was blocked by the thick clouds in the sky. It was truly amazing how dark it got when the snow persisted for so long. Shimmering lights blended with the snow to create halos around every lamp. The snow glared with the beams of light. Marinette kept her head down to prevent herself from looking directly into the lights, and kept walking. She was two blocks away now, with two minutes left.

 

Her steps picked up until she was almost in a jog. 

 

The tinkling bell of the cafe announced her presence five minutes after three. Her breath came out in frustrated puffs as she looked around the cafe to search for a familiar blond head. 

 

She heard her name called out from the side of the cafe and looked over, light spreading across her face. Adrien sat at the edge of the restaurant, next to a panel of outlets, a wide countertop, and a large window that let what little light existed outside fill the small space of the cafe. Her breath left her in a large whoosh as she spotted him, the light creating a halo around his golden head, his green eyes probably piercing into her very soul. 

 

Her hand did what her mind could not muster up the ability to do and waved to him, her feet walking across the cafe with a will of their own. Her mind had left the building. So much for treating him like a normal human being. A blush was already creeping across her skin, though she hoped it just looked like the remnants of the cold wind outside. 

 

Adrien didn’t seem to notice. He had set up his new, expensive computer, a tablet for sketching already plugged in, and photoshop ready to go. Spread across the counter was what looked like every pastry the shop sold, along with two steaming mugs of coffee. 

 

Marinette approached more cautiously as she stopped the effects. Her smile was hesitant, but pleasantly surprised. “What have we got going on?”

 

Adrien’s hand went to scratch at the hair at the back of his neck as he looked down at the countertop full of treats. “Oh. Yeah. Well, I guess I went a little overboard, didn’t I?” A sheepish smile met hers. 

 

“No, it’s fine,” she chuckled. “I wasn’t expecting such a warm welcome, that’s all.”

 

He looked relieved. “Well, I don’t really get out much. I don’t really know,” he gestured for the words, “procedure.” 

 

Her bags hit the floor with a loud thump and she flopped onto the stool ungracefully. Slowly, she began erecting her own, very cheap, very old computer and the second hand tablet that she managed to get for only a hundred euros off of ebay. It didn’t come with a pen, so she had to make due with a stylus she found on the subway. She was a classy motherfucker. 

 

“There’s not really ‘procedure’ for school projects. You’re off the hook for that one.” Her laptop took its sweet time booting up. Meanwhile, Adrien was glancing back and forth between the pastries he had bought and her. She glanced over to him with a question in the set of her shoulders. He gestured to the counter of baked goods. Marinette relented and took the closest to her, bringing it to her lips and taking a bite of the corner. Adrien watched in rapture the whole time. “Are you actually gonna eat some or are you just gonna watch me?”

 

He seemed to realize that he was watching and blushed a deep red. “Oh. Sorry. Um… I can’t. I mean, you know. Model diet and all.” 

 

Marinette had completely forgotten about his line of work. Obsessing over his pictures apparently didn’t bring home the idea that his job was to look pretty. “Right. So you bought the whole store for me to eat?” 

 

Somehow, he blushed harder. “I’m sorry I-”

 

“I’m just teasing you,” she laid a gentle hand on his arm. It didn’t process in her brain until his face had calmed into the shade of Marinette’s jacket that she was touching him. Her hand was on his arm, precariously situated in between them, so they both could see the contact. It was her turn to blush as she snatched her hand away, refusing to make eye contact with him, and clearing her throat. 

 

However much she hated how slow her computer was, she was glad that it took that moment to make the loud “I’m here!” noise that let everyone in the restaurant know it had finally loaded the password screen. Marinette typed in her too-long password and entered the home page, where she found last night’s searches open. Usually, her searches for materials online took her to find some beautiful outfits made completely of chiffon and silk, but there were apparently different connotations when it came to spandex that Marinette had discovered last night when half of her search came up with bulges. She slammed her computer shut and went to bed without realizing she would have to open it up the next day in front of someone who was uncomfortably close to her and could most definitely see her screen. 

 

She cleared her throat and quickly deleted the page, but not before Adrien saw it and laughed. 

 

“What’s that about?” he teased. 

 

“It’s my kink,” she said under her breath. 

 

“What?”

 

“I was researching materials last night and there were too many dicks for my taste so I shut my computer down without deleting the page and now I realize how awkward that is now that I’m opening my computer up in public for the world to see. But it’s not like my entire life isn’t a mess of my anxiety and awkwardness already. No, I just had to add this to the already overflowing list of embarrassment I suffer on a day to day basis.” She stuffed pastry in her mouth before she could continue talking and resigned herself to typing something into her computer to find the thumbnail to photoshop, an app that ran far too slowly on her computer to get any real work done. No matter, she suffered through it anyway. 

 

It seemed Adrien didn’t catch much of what she said. She was grateful that she muttered the entire thing to herself, leaving Adrien shaking his head. She looked over to where he was staring at her, his head cocked to the side. Her computer was working on loading a couple of files and there was a croissant hanging from her mouth. 

 

She tore the baked good from her mouth and turned to him. “What?”

 

“Nothing,” he said, turning to his own computer with a smile. 

 

“No. What were you staring at?” 

 

“You just…” he typed some things into his computer and started loading files. “You remind me of someone is all.”

 

She left it at that, and turned away from him with a quizzical look, slowly stuffing more of the pastry into her mouth. Her files had loaded, and it was time to get down to business. 

 

“Okay, _anyway_ ,” she started. “These are some of the ideas I have for the cover. We have to make three, so I came up with some mock-ups that I think really exemplify the style of Jagged Stone. You know, that rocker chic sort of vibe. He loves purple and fishnet and spiked hair and all that, so I wanted to incorporate all of the crazy stuff into one, have an average one, and then a really simplistic one to have some options. What do you think?”

 

She turned the computer, devoid of bulges now, to him, showing the three so-called “mock-ups” that she had already spent hours of her life on. They were nowhere near polished. In truth, she was starting to hate them, but they were what she had, and she had to go with something. She was much better at making things that were real. She only took the design class because she knew digital media was going to help in her career. Too many industries were making use of tablets nowadays, and she had to keep up. Even if she preferred pencil and paper, she was determined to change with the times. 

 

Adrien studied the covers for awhile, clicking between the three. One with a background of lightning striking a guitar, the sort of cheesy rock vibe that Jagged Stone was known for. Another with the wide open mouth of a crocodile, each tooth shining, Jagged Stone himself striking a pose in the mouth at it acted like a platform overlooking a crowd of fans with their arms raised towards him. The last, and the most complex, included clashing guitars, lightning, Jagged Stone, and beautiful girls in spiked hair and fishnets wearing shirts with the JS logo, everything that he loved, all in shades of purple and silver, accented with pops of red. 

 

“These are amazing.” Adrien was smiling at the computer screen as Marinette watched. “I really like them.” He sat back and smiled to Marinette, who, you guessed it, was blushing again. She didn’t know how she had enough blood in her body to supplement all of the wasted supply going to her cheeks. “I’m glad I snagged you as a partner.”

 

She was sure she was having a palpitation, so she began stammering about how it was no big deal, they were mock-ups after all and she had only spent a little bit of time on them. They’ll be better when she’s done with them. All ending with “What do you have,” because she was talking too much and needed to stop. 

 

His designs were more of ideas, pasted together with various clippings from other Jagged Stone posters, album covers, and photo shoots. 

 

“I was thinking pretty much-” he was cut off by a flash outside the window they sat in front of. His attention was automatically attuned to whatever was happening out of the window, perking upward like a cat who spotted a fly. Several more flashes followed and Adrien cursed under his breath. Marinette looked where Adrien had locked his sights. 

 

Several photographers were set up outside the external seating of the cafe, which was completely empty thanks to the cold. They were bundled up in coats so big only the cameras were able to be made out as any discernible part of their body, like huge eyes staring at them. 

 

As Ladybug, she was completely used to being hounded by reporters. 

 

As Marinette, the feeling of being watched so closely was unnerving. She considered herself a private person, not really on social media too much, not going out unless she really had to, especially during the cold months. So the flashes of light that made up for the lack of sun got Marinette to shifting in her seat. 

 

Adrien looked over to her as she cinched her eyebrows and pursed her lips uncomfortably. “I’m sorry. I don’t go out much, so when I do, they get really excited and want to know every part of my life. I’m pretty sure it’s because my father rarely has press conferences anymore, and they think I know something.” His laugh was bitter. 

 

Marinette looked from Adrien to the reporters and photographers outside. Pairs of them stood next to each other, one snapping pictures, the others holding recording devices, shifting and ready to ask questions as soon as they exited the cafe. 

 

“I’m really sorry, we can leave if you want. I have a car. I can-”

 

“Adrien, it’s fine.” Somehow, her hand made its way to his shoulder, patting it comfortingly, then snatching it away quickly when the gesture made the photographers outside start flashing rapidly. She set her hands firmly in her lap, restraining them from doing anything else that she didn’t bid them to do. “Really, I don’t mind. The light helps, actually,” she tried joking. 

 

He smiled gratefully and looked back at the work they had set out to do. He began explaining himself, his work, and Marinette admired him speaking, waving his hands every now and again to explain more emphatically what he was trying to describe. 

 

Unfortunately, the patrons of the cafe started realizing that there was a celebrity in their midst. It wasn’t every day a world famous model and the son of an equally famous fashion designer settled into a tiny, corner cafe such as this. Several girls started snapping pictures as well, each fighting over who was gonna go and ask for an autograph. Marinette tried not to alert Adrien to the increasing number of people who became interested in the pair, but the crowd was becoming restless. 

 

Adrien stopped explaining his work and finally took notice of the people behind him. Disappointment and aggravation crossed his face for only an instant before he turned back to Marinette with a sorry expression. “We should probably go. I don’t want you to get mobbed.”

 

She stopped herself from saying she was used to it, because there was no reason she should be, and she had already said it was fine. There was really no use in arguing at that point, despite the fact she would rather die a slow death than go out into the snow after she had just started to get warm again. The coffee had helped. But it was time to go. 

 

“Yeah,” she conceded. The pair stood and started packing their computers and tablets to go. “Probably. I really like your work, by the way. We’re totally gonna win.”

 

“Totally,” he said, raising a fist to bump. Marinette stood down at it for a second then shifted all of her things to one hand to fist bump him back. A smile blossomed on her face and she looked to the counter still full of uneaten pastries. 

 

“We should pack these up. I don’t want them to go to waste.” Marinette was taught from a young age that food was the one thing that was not to be wasted. You ate everything on your plate, leftovers were meals for days to come. You only threw something out when it started to grow mold. Unsold goods at the end of a business day were breakfast, lunch, and dinner during her childhood, and she would usually have to bring some to school with her the next day. When Marinette moved out, the leftovers were donated to a local homeless shelter, where they held the same philosophy of no waste. 

 

Marinette started wrapping up all of the pastries in napkins and stuffing them into her bag. Adrien gave her a look. 

 

“What? I’m not gonna waste them. You spent a lot of money on these.” The look remained. “ _What_? I’ll eat them for breakfast or something. You said yourself that you can’t have them. Unless,” she held one up in his face, tauntingly. “You want to break that stickler diet of yours.”

 

He waved it away, smiling good naturedly. “I’d love to. But there’s a lot of things I would love to do that I know I can’t. Or… shouldn’t. Either. Both.” 

 

Marinette’s face squished up. “I couldn’t do that.” She pinched off a piece of yellow cake from some decadent-looking pastry and licked the crumbs off of her fingers. “I don’t have the willpower.” She smiled up at Adrien, who was giving her a strange, wide eyed look. “Are you okay? You seem pretty spacey.”

 

He shook his head out of his staring once again. “Yeah. I’m just… I’m tired, I guess. I have a long day ahead of me.” 

 

“It seems so. You were only free for two hours today?” They began walking to the door, slowly making their way between the crowded tables and chattering people. 

 

“Yeah. I have a photo shoot later today. I’m saving most of my energy for that.” 

 

“Ah,” she took another bite of her pastry as she walked. It was really delicious. It was a shame he couldn't try any. Shouldn’t. Either. Both. 

 

They stopped just outside the door. The paparazzi was crowded outside the establishment, following them in their tracks through the window. They photographed every move, maybe trying to catch something embarrassing, maybe just _really_ bored. 

 

“So, when we get out there,” Adrien said through a sigh. “It’s best to keep your head down and say nothing. I have a car that we can go to and I’ll drop you off wherever you need.”

 

“Oh, Adrien. No. I’m fin-”

 

“It’s really best to make a quick escape. I don’t want them following you home and asking questions.”

 

“I can handle myself.” 

 

“I have no doubt. But nobody should have to deal with pushy photographers.” Marinette laughed at the memories of Alya following Ladybug around day in and day out. She was one pushy person, but Marinette never minded. Maybe it was the fact that she was her best friend and was used to the aggressive behavior, but the girl always left a smile on Ladybug’s face. It was half the reason why Ladybug made sure the blog which was her namesake got the best shots of her in action. 

 

The stern look on Adrien’s face told her that there was no getting around this. At least not this time. He was trying to be kind, at least. And it was better than riding the metro back in the cold. 

 

“Alright. Where’s your car?” Another patron passed by them on their way out the door and the photographers started clicking and flashing away to get shots of them through the space, like they weren’t about to step out in the open anyway. 

 

“It’ll pull up any second.” 

 

Of course he had a driver.

 

“You ready?” 

 

Marinette pulled her bag in close to her and nodded definitely. Adrien nodded back and pushed the door open, taking the lead but glancing behind to make sure she was close behind. She kept close on his heel, keeping her head down like he had told her, as the paparazzi buzzed around them. Even as Ladybug, there weren’t ever this many flashes in her face. 

 

Perhaps because her appearances happened guerilla style, or that the had been accumulating over the past hour that she and Adrien had resided in the cafe. Either way, they were thick and hard to get through, shouting questions about Adrien’s father’s company among other things. 

 

One question that rose above the crowd involved Marinette. 

 

“Honey, look up here!” they called. “Who are you, sweetie?” With a sugary tone that Ladybug was not used to. There was no respect in it, only the patronizing stench of the faux-elite. 

 

“Who is she, Adrien?”

 

“Is this your new girlfriend?”

 

“Are you two dating?”

 

“Are you guys together?” 

 

“Why don’t you give us a kiss!”

 

Marinette couldn't help but laugh at that one. 

 

Adrien seemed aggravated by it. He held his arms up to try and get through the crowd, which seemed to never end. She could have sworn the end of the sidewalk was only a couple of meters away. It wasn’t until she tripped and fell into Adrien’s back that she was done. 

 

As she stumbled to regain her balance, one of the photographers shouted. “Look, Adrien! She’s falling for you.” A ripple of laughter went through the crowd, and Marinette blushed at the surprisingly astute comment. The look of concern that shot across Adrien’s face as he looked back at her made her want to smack every single person on the street. She was cold, she was still hungry, and she was not having this. She ripped the scarf from her face and fisted her hands by her side. 

 

“Stop!”

 

The shout that emanated from her was not human. The crowd silenced around her immediately, but cameras kept flashing. 

 

“No! I am not Adrien’s girlfriend. No, we’re not on a date. We were working on a school project, which you all so kindly interrupted. No, I will not give him a kiss unless it gets me an A. So you can all back off now, because we have nothing else to say.” 

 

She marched past a stunned Adrien and grabbed his hand, getting into the first car that they came to, hoping beyond hope that it was his. Luck was on her side as she slid into the leather back seat, the warmth of the heater blowing full force. Adrien followed closely behind, slamming the door shut and telling his driver to get going. 

 

Marinette shuffled so all of her things were settled on her lap, and patted Tikki in the bag that had been unceremoniously shoved into the backseat. The little fairy could not have been comfortable. 

 

The car was silent as they drove away from the cafe. 

 

A long, tense moment was drawn out between them. 

 

At once, they started speaking.

 

“I’m really sor-”

 

“Sorry, I-”

 

“No, you can-”

 

“You can go first-”

 

“I just meant-”

 

“Sorry, I didn’t-”

 

Marinette held a hand up to stop him from speaking. 

 

“Sorry,” she said. Simply, with finality. “They were being assholes, but that didn’t mean that I had to be an ass, too. I’m sorry if that gets you in trouble or something. I didn’t really… think.” A thought hit her that it had been a long, long time since she had done anything without thinking it fully through. It felt good. 

 

“No, you were right to do that. They were being totally uncool. I’m sorry that you had to go through that.” 

 

She waved her hand in dismissal. “It’s nothing that-” she stopped herself before insinuating that she had dealt with reporters before. “It’s nothing. My friend is a reporter and she likes practicing on me.”

 

They chuckled lightly and the conversation seemed to stall. 

 

“So, um-”

 

“I think we-”

 

“You go first,” Marinette insisted. 

 

Adrien grinned. “Should we try and get together to work on it some other time? Somewhere less…” he was gonna say public, but he didn’t want to suggest anything. A rush of warm butterflies erupted in the pit of her stomach and bled into her face. Dammit, he was cute. 

 

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“So…”

 

“Um- where do you live?”

 

The flush left and blood drained from her face. “What?”

 

“I mean. So we can drop you off.” Her heart started beating again when she saw the little hint of terror in his face. “I didn’t mean-”

 

“No, it’s fine.” She gave the driver the address and sat back. The rest of the ride was silent, a conversation hanging in the air, but neither willing or able to grab it and start making something of it. By the time they made it to Marinette’s apartment complex, she wanted to light the tension in the air on fire and bail. “So…” she tried, attempting to keep something resembling composure even though her insides had turned to microwaved slush and were pulsing in her chest. 

 

“I guess I’ll text you.”

 

“Yes!” A way out! “Texting. Perfect. You’ll text me and then we’ll work on the project. Yes. Good. Okay. Bye!” She practically slammed the door on her way out, hitting her pam into her forehead as she walked as fast as she could from the travesty of a situation she left behind. She whispered a string of ‘fuck’s under her breath until she made it to her door. And closed herself in. 

 

Tikki flew out to greet her as she closed the door to her apartment. 

 

“So,” she started pertly. “I think that went well.”

 

Marinette groaned and flopped over onto her bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: a little bit of sin :):):):):):):) because that's the whole reason I'm here.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marinette is confused and Alya tries to help. (Also I almost made it dollars instead of euros again forgive me I am but a sad american)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Marinette doesn't like to talk with people, but Alya is really good at reading her. They're amazing and I love them and there is much angst to come. :)

“No, Alya. I’m not going to go out for the _fourth_ night in a row.” Marinette paced around her apartment, going from one room to another as she spoke on the phone with Alya, who was absolutely insisting that she come out. 

“It’s Saturday night, girl. What else do you have planned?”

“Nothing! That’s exactly my point. I want to just stay home and relax. It’s been a long day, and I still have a lot of work to get done on this project, and I have homework.”

“Honey, homework is a Sunday problem.”

“That’s your opinion.”

“That’s the world’s opinion.”

“Your world, maybe. My world has a ten page essay due in a week.” Marinette glanced to her work desk in her room, where there was an open, empty document calling her name. 

“You can pull that out of your ass in a day and you know it.”

“I can, but I don’t want to. Alya. Please, I’m tired and I want to get some sleep.”

A huffy sigh came over the staticy phone, but she got her point of overbearing disappointment across just fine. “Fine. I’ll go by myself.”

“Invite Felix. He’s gonna be there anyway. Just have some fun with him or whatever.” Marinette rubbed at her temples, where a headache was starting to form. She was far more tired than any twenty two year old had any right to be. 

“Alright. But you totally need to tell me every detail about what happened tonight. Get some rest, honey. You sound tired.”

“Where was that five seconds ago?”

“Bye!”

Marinette scoffed at the phone and threw it onto the couch, slouching down along with it and kicking her feet up on the coffee table with more water stains that visible wood. The TV was flicked on in a second and she turned on the news as background noise. She always kept a project on her coffee table or across the back of her couch in case she got bored. The piece that was sitting next to her needed embroidery like Alya needed chill. 

She pulled the rough fabric into her hands and ran fingers over the unfinished embroidery. A needle with a long strand of thread stuck her as she looked for where she left off. She cursed the tiny piece of metal and pulled it out of the fabric. The emerald fabric was beautiful on its own, but it needed texture for the gown she was going to make with it. Well, not really a gown. It was like a jacket, but also a trench coat that had a lot of flow. But it also had structure, especially in the bodice. Whatever it was, it was gonna be cool. The sketches she had made on her computer had ensured her of that. 

At least she made some use of the old tablet. 

She sighed heavily and watched the local news channel about the way the world was turning while absentmindedly embroidering the luscious fabric she had spent way too much money on. It would be worth it when it was done, she told herself. She had closets full of clothes that told her so. 

But she didn’t really have a use for a forest green, collared dress-cape in her everyday life. Maybe a costume? Wear around the house and fell badass? That was more likely. 

With any luck, she would be able to sell the pattern to a fashion company, sign a contract, become a full-fledged designer. Maybe she would even have a desk that wasn’t constantly cluttered with spare swatches of fabric, thread, and the odds and ends of living as a twenty two year old. 

Whatever was going to happen in the future, nothing was going to happen that night, she assured herself. There was some small comfort in the fact that there was a recent akuma attack. Hawkmoth wasn’t one to send two possessed demons after her Miraculous this close to each other, so she had time to breathe. 

The scrape down her back had healed quickly and nicely. Despite her protesting to Tikki on the contrary, it still hurt. The swelling had yet to settle into a calm burn that she was used to. When she settled into bed, she had to take extra measures not to lay on it. Getting dressed was a feat unto itself. 

Luckily - a word she found herself ironically thinking more and more often recently - she had a high pain tolerance. Probably from fighting so many monsters and having to heal from their injuries. Rest was the worst part of recovery. 

Whenever she got a particularly nasty scrape or bruise, Tikki would bid her to bed for however long she could get her to stay. Not long, usually, but Advil was a magical invention. 

As she lay on the couch, the news woman started blathering on about political scandal that Marinette had no interest in. The politics of her country only concerned her when the safety of her people were at stake. There was no way she was going to let her friends and family anywhere near that danger, be it militarial or monstrous. 

After a half hour talking segment and countless stitches later, the mood switched to a topic more interesting to Marinette. 

“-seems the surveillance cameras in the building of Ladybug’s latest akuma battle were hacked, granting the hacker a direct line of sight into all of the goings on of Ladybug’s fight. We have yet to find out if this hacker was using the video stream for malicious intent, or rather they were trying to catch a glimpse of the action themselves. There have been many rumors of people going out of their way to spot Ladybug in action, even occasionally putting themselves in danger for a photo or video.”

Marinette scoffed. The reporter meant Alya. There was not one other person Marinette nor Ladybug knew that would willingly walk _towards_ an akuma. Some raced to rooftops to find views from above, but Ladybug, fortunately, never had to intervene with someone who wanted to get a little too close.

She preferred it that way. It was safer. 

“Owners of the building are investigating further hacking, but as of yet have not found any evidence of cyber vandalism-”

Marinette switched the television off. It was time for a shower. 

“What do you think of that, Tikki?” she asked as she set her embroidery project back on the coffee table to rest. 

“Well, as long as they’re not putting themselves in danger, I’m fine with an audience. It’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” That perked Marinette’s ears a little. 

She was walking toward the bathroom when she paused to address the miraculous resting on a couch cushion. “Really?” 

“Oh yes. Previous Ladybugs have rallied entire arenas to watch them work. They would put on shows, entertain royals. It was all very fun. Not quite my cup of tea, but it wasn’t doing any harm. Besides, people need someone to look up to. That’s what Ladybug is there for.”

Marinette cinched her eyebrows. “Huh.” It wasn’t like she didn’t know that people looked up to her. She signed the t-shirts of children and teens alike, sometimes people her age or older. She knew she was a role model. 

But doubt, the nagging voice inside her head told her that she should be doing something more. 

Whatever it was, she didn’t know. But… something. 

“I’ll be out in a little,” Marinette told her companion, then shut the door behind her. 

She undressed and turned the faucet to her desired temperature of scalding hot. While the water warmed up, she examined herself in the mirror. 

Thin. Short. Muscular. 

All things she knew. 

A long scar running from her navel to her collar bone stuck out like a highlighter on her skin, reminding her of past battles. Past failures. 

She turned her shoulder away from the reflective surface and pointed her cut towards it to examine the injury. It was healing quite well. Faster than it should, definitely, for how deep it was. Tikki’s effect, she was sure. 

Her hair fell just to her shoulders, tickling the top of the gash. As Ladybug, her hair grew longer, the iconic pigtails tying themselves in red bows as a symbol of her history. The public had grown far too used to the cute style, and Tikki ensured that it remained. As Marinette, her hair fell in slight waves around her neck, too long for her comfort. While longer hair would reduce her need for a scarf in the harsh winters, she preferred a shorter, out of the way style that could still be pulled into a ponytail if need be. 

Pulling back her hair into a tight bun, she stepped into the shower. Boiling water fought off the aching muscles of a stressful week, month, lifetime. It hurt at first, as she adjusted to the almost too-warm temperature, but she quickly adjusted. She could feel the tension leaving her and her body nearly collapsed under the heat, welcoming the warmth as it seeped into her bones.

Her mind wandered as she let the water run over her, careful to avoid getting her hair wet so it wouldn’t freeze as she slept. Despite living on the top floor, where the heat should rise to, her heater had been broken for years. Never having the money to replace it, she resigned herself to living with heated blankets and fluffy socks. 

She hated the cold, wanted to run from it every chance she got. Maybe move somewhere warm and tropical, to lay on the beach and get a tan. Wear sunglasses to shield the sun, and not the sterile white reflection from the snow on the sidewalks. She would be able to wear the clothes she wanted to design for herself, not having to bundle up with expensive down jackets twice her size. 

The heat of the water scared the cold away, steam building up around her. 

Breathing became easier, the iciness in her chest bleeding away, replaced with the stifling warmth of the shower’s steam. Her hair became damp despite never having touched the water, and she felt herself relax completely. 

She imagined what Alya must be doing, out in the crowded bar on a Saturday night, sitting next to Felix and flirting dangerously. She would be wearing something adorable and crazy for the cold, but her warm blood would make up for it. Her hair would be done as perfectly as the cat eye she painted on her lids, and the dark stain across her lips. Heeled boots would make her butt look even more fantastic than it did without heels, and she would make sure everyone in the bar knew it, while keeping her eyes solely on Felix. Every man in the bar would be jealous of him, want to be him, if only for a second. 

Nino especially, she laughed to herself. Although the two hadn’t even met, she could tell by the way he looked at her from across the bar the one night they spent together that he was interested. He eyed her even when he thought Marinette was no longer looking, distracted with Adrien. But she couldn’t help but notice his interest. It was her duty as best friend to scout every possible potential mate or threat to the current one. 

Her thoughts wandered to Adrien. Dangerous territory, she reminded herself. 

She remembered how good he looked that night. Every night. 

Not that she had seen him more than that one time, but she just assumed that he always looked good. 

What would he be doing now, she thought?

Flirting with another girl, laughing with his friends, at a photoshoot with lights hitting him to make him look like the perfect human being. Even more perfect than he already was. 

She felt her hands skimming across her abdomen, tickling along with the trickling water. 

Thoughts of the night at the bar rushed through her head, remembering how he had held her to his side to fend off the drunken bastard and the cold. It felt so good to be in his arms, cradled perfectly, her shoulder fitting directly under his so that his arm could recline comfortably across her. She had forgotten, just for a moment, the chill of the wind that swirled around them, the snow that fell and laced their eyelashes. 

How would it feel to cuddle into him, allow his arms to fully encircle her, his warmth wrapping around her. Strong arms would bring her ever closer to him, and she would rest her head against his chest and breathe him in. She hugged herself in the shower, scraping the tips of her fingers along her skin, eliciting a shiver down her spine. Her arms weren’t as powerful as those she wished were holding her instead, so she let her mind take over, pretending to be fully encased in his warmth, instead of the heat coming from her shower head. 

Just imagining the way he would feel in her arms made her weak, her knees quaking. Her breath shuddered from her chest in shallow puffs, the steam rising in the air making it harder to breathe. Her fingers and her imagination went further, her hands tracing on her body what she thought he might do, from her shoulders and her neck to the space between her thighs. The arms that once hugged herself floated downward to press her tighter against an imaginary form. Fingertips traced circles along her stomach, and she wished deeply that it were his, the pads rougher and more textured than hers, bringing about more feeling. 

Her hands respectively wandered upwards and downwards, as she brought an image of his lips into her mind, pressing themselves against hers, creating a trail of kisses down her neck, across her breasts, towards her fingers that firmly stroked her-

Nope!

Not today, Satan. 

She shut off the water and allowed the cold to rush back into her. The tiles of the shower had not quite warmed completely, so the pressed her cheeks against them, bringing a chill to her heated cheeks. A headache formed between her eyebrows and she pinched the bridge of her nose to ward against it. 

Absolutely unacceptable, she told herself. What was she doing? She had already promised herself not to get attached to this boy, and here she was, fantasizing about him in the shower, completely losing all sense of pride in the process. She was completely hopeless. 

The water drained completely from the tub and she stepped out onto the plush mat that soaked in the remaining water clinging to her feet. She ignored the constant buzzing that came from between her legs, a reminder of what she should totally not have been doing, dammit. She grabbed a towel and started brushing away the water that remained on her skin, fending off the cold that was creeping in under the door. 

She tucked the towel around her and jogged out the door to her room, hopping into her bed and covering herself with the blankets before she could feel the infringing chill seeping through the windows and cracks beneath the doors. Cuddling into herself, she tried to close her eyes to get sleep. Her body ached with tired though it was only eight. She could feel herself getting closer and closer to sleep, but it kept evading her. 

The electric blanket didn’t provide enough warmth to get the the core of ice that refused to melt in her stomach. It wasn’t just the weather that was encroaching on her heat, but the icy stab of shame that she had done something she shouldn't have done. It’s not like Adrien would be able to tell what she had done, but whenever she came around him from now on, she would remember herself touching where she wanted him to touch, and feeling imaginary muscles beneath her fingertips. 

She wouldn't be able to escape from the burning heat that melted across her cheeks, and she most definitely would not be able to form a coherent thought, let alone sentence, around him. 

Refusing to let herself believe she was falling for him, she called the trist an infatuation. It was done now, over. Their relationship would remain strictly platonic, even strictly professional when the time called for it. 

The idea of not being able to share secret thought with him, though. Not being able to hug him when he was upset, or feel his fingers tucking her hair behind her ear when a piece got loose. Never allowing herself to hold hands with him, and having his large, warm hands close over her small, ever cold hands. The idea formed a pit in her stomach that refused to be filled by idle thought. 

“Tikki,” Marinette called into the dark apartment. If there was anything that could help, it would be her trusted confidant, friend, ally, and partner. 

The fairy had taken to sleeping under the heated blankets, so her voice came out muffled against the fabric. “Yes, Marinette?”

“I- um… could we transform, please?”

The kwami flew into the open, a concerned look barely evident in the dark room. It wasn’t like her to request the transformation out of the most dire of circumstances. If an akuma was raging, or the press needed a good shot of her kissin babies and shaking hands, she would transform on the spot. But casually? Never.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. I just… I don’t know. I feel better when we’re transformed.” She sighed. “I just need… something.” Tikki tilted her head to one side, the space where eyebrows would be inching towards each other. A wave of something that felt like shame washed through Marinette’s stomach. She huffed with frustration and wrapped the blankets closer around her naked form. “You know what, nevermind.” 

“Marinette.” 

Something wet and warm seeped down Marinette’s face. Something she refused to believe were tears. What was there for her to cry about?

“Say the words.”

A shaky voice whispered into the apartment. “Spots on.”

Light enfolded Marinette as she fell into a peaceful slumber. 

\-----

She woke around ten, two hours later than she usually let herself sleep in to. The warmth of the suit had disappeared from her body, and she could feel a strange calling towards the powers that made her feel more whole. Tikki munched on a cookie on the desk next to her head. 

“Alya just texted,” the red bug told her. Marinette looked to the phone on the desk where there were a line of texts from Alya. 

_I’m getting coffee do you want your ‘I’m exhausted’ order or the ‘I’m literally dead’ order?_

_Whatever I’m getting your dead order_

_If you can’t take it just pour some water in it_

_Nevermind that’s gross_

_ETA 0 minutes_

The last message had been sent to her not five seconds before Marinette picked up the phone. A knock came to the door, and Marinette slipped from her bed, keeping her multitude of blankets wrapped tightly around her so she didn’t expose herself to the cold or her friend. The floors of the apartment were terribly cold, more so than usual, and Marinette shivered through the blankets. 

She opened the door right as Alya was about to call her name. 

The two girls looked at each other for a moment, Marinette still having to process the sight of her friend standing in her doorway with two coffees and a mountain of pastries. 

“I bought coffee,” Alya said. 

“I noticed.”

Alya walked in with a wordless invitation and began setting down some of the things she had brought. Marinette’s regular ‘I’m literally dead’ option consisted of five espresso shots with an equal number of pumps of vanilla sweetener, putting her into a mini coma every night when she came down off of the high the coffee induced. Alya produced two coffees with ten shots each. 

Marinette was sure to have a heart attack. Muffins and slices of pumpkin and banana bread scattered across the low coffee table in the middle of the living room - what passed as the living room. Flaky pastries and bagels also were added to the pile. Alya reached into the pockets of her winter coat and pulled out a small container of oatmeal with granola, a fruit cup, yogurt with fake syrupy blueberry sauce, and a large slice of chocolate cake. 

“For later,” Alya answered Marinette’s skeptical look. 

“What’s later?”

“I don’t know. You just seemed stressed out and I wanted to give you options. We could stay in, or we could go to the mall, although there was a fresh snow last night and it got down to below freezing, so everything kind of sucks right now. Maybe a movie? I don’t know, girl. I’m here to do whatever you want to do.” A kind smile swept across Alya’s lips, one that was almost hesitant. 

Marinette examined the spread of food and thought through the words of her friend. A swell of gratitude made her hug her best friend, knowing that there was no way to hold up the blankets around her. They were trapped momentarily between their bodies as Marinette hugged tightly, refusing to let the blankets or any tears fall.

“I love you.”

“I love you, girl.”

They held on for a long moment until Alya tried to pull away. Frightened, Marinette held on tighter. Alya struggled with her grip. 

“Girl. A little less love, please.”

“I can’t. The blankets will fall.”

“And?” A silence. “Girl, seriously?!”

“What, like you’ve never slept naked before.”

“Not in the ass crack middle of winter. And certainly not to open the door of your apartment. I could have been anyone!”

“Just close your eyes for a second, idiot.”

“Oh, I’m the idiot?”

“Yes. Close your eyes.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Clo-”

“They’re closed!” Alya giggled and closed her eyes, letting Marinette let go of the pressure keeping the blankets around her body and sprint into the bedroom to put clothes on. She heard the door close and opened her eyes. She broke into a bagel and smeared cream cheese all over it, waiting. Marinette emerged no more than five minutes later, fully done save for the winter boots by the door. “So what are we doing today?”

Marinette stood in the doorway of her bedroom, struggling with indecision. She glanced around the apartment, at all of the memories she had made there. That is to say, not many. She could vividly remember stubbing her toe so hard she bled on the back of the couch, a wound that Tikki quickly healed. She remembered unwisely taking a boy to her apartment and having to kick him out when he refused to leave the next morning. She remembered her night in the shower last night, and especially remembered the way she had imagined Adrien’s-

“I kind of don’t want to be in the apartment, actually. Could we go somewhere?”

Alya perked up. “Absolutely.”

“Do you have somewhere in mind?”

A sly smile was all she needed for confirmation. 

\-----

“Is this your idea of a joke?”

“I don’t joke about lingerie.”

“I know. That’s what concerns me.”

“You need something that makes you feel good about yourself, girl.”

“Nothing makes me feel good that’s over a hundred euros.”

Alya and Marinette were in a small boutique lingerie shop, Marinette holding up a skimpy piece of black lace that looked like it cost more per inch of thread than gold. Really, for something so small, why did it have to cost so much. She didn’t even know why she let Alya persuade her to go into the little, dimly lit shop, but here she was, surrounded by revealing clothing and leathery straps of things she didn’t want to know the use for. 

“Cumon. It’s adorable and you know it.”

“Yeah, it’s adorable. But I could make this for like… ten bucks. I’m not gonna spend a hundred euros on it.”

“Marinette. You are not going to make a lace corset with this much boning. We both know you struggle with that shit.”

“Taking a class about how to sew boning would cost less than this thing!” 

Alya scoffed. “At your school.”

This quieted Marinette for a second. “Touche. But you get what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do.” Alya directed her attention to the sales rack. It was a small corner of the store, and the discount was still only fifteen percent. “Look, fifty five bucks.” It was probably the least expensive thing in the entire place, and it looked like it. Ugly, purple puffs of furry something were stamped in balls all over a hot pink shift that opened in the front to reveal the belly button of the wearer. 

“That’s disgusting,” Marinette said, forgetting her filter as the shop owner came over to help. 

Somehow, Alya persuaded to buy a black, lacy bra, matching panties, and a cover-up with just a touch of silk. In total, it was over two hundred euros. Marinette was nervous about buying something so expensive, but she knew she wasn’t going to get out of the store without buying something. 

While Alya tried on more things, Marinette sat in the changing room, fiddling with the tags on her new clothes. 

“So why are we here again?”

“For your self confidence.”

Marinette scoffed. “Yeah, I mean besides that.” Alya had on a golden, shimmery shift over a black set of lingerie with equally shiny trim. She looked hot. But she always looked hot. Marinette nodded her consent with the outfit. 

“I may or may not have a date with Felix,” Alya blushed. 

“No way!” Marinette was suddenly excited. “That’s so awesome. When is it? Where is it?”

Alya was laughing along with her friend. “I know! I’m ecstatic. He;s taking me to this restaurant on the Seine. It’s supposed to be super pretty and romantic and beautiful and amazing. All things that he is, so I’m really excited.” Her blush was brighter than the next pair of red underwear she tried on. 

“Congrats, dude. That’s so cool. You deserve it.” 

She really did. Alya worked hard. For however much she liked to go out and party, she spent over five times the effort on her work, writing and researching, investigating sometimes, when her work called for it. She wrote a piece a day, some that she worked on for over a month, others that she pulled out of her ass like a pro. 

Alya was the kind of person whose work was impeccable no matter what she wrote on. She was assigned, earlier in her career at the paper she currently worked at, to write a piece on the dog park, and she turned it into the most sentimental piece about the frivolity of childhood and nostalgia that came about when going to such a place. Marinette had found herself tearing up while she read it, all the while wanting to buy a dog at the same time. 

From there, her editors had given her more and more ambitious pieces, all while letting her report on Ladybug, whom she was always especially interested in. She was also especially good at reporting on Ladybug, always managing to get exclusive interviews that nobody else could get, pictures that almost looked staged, and insider information first. Marinette could say she helped out a little bit, but honestly, the girl was a host unto herself. 

With working so much, she had never been able to go out very often with people she was interested in. Her escapades with Marinette lasted mere hours, and the rest of the time she was working, or studying for her bachelor’s in Journalism online. So having a date was a big deal. She deserved it. 

“That one,” Marinette said, nodding to the long line, corset back piece that Alya had on. The lacy hem tickled the edge of her ribs, making her waist look slim, the boned bodice pushing her cleavage further than Marinette every thought it could go. The matching underwear made her butt look spectacular, to put it bluntly. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yup. That bootay is Grade-A,” Marinette said with a smug grin. 

“Oh. My god.” Marinette giggled at her joke. “Really?” She only giggled harder. “I hate you.” Both girls dissolved into giggles. “Alright, idiot. Time to go.”

The girls gathered their things and went to the register. 

“Ooh! How about a double date?”

“How about you go die in a hole?” 

Marinette hesitated before she swiped her credit card.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marinette is exhausted and needs a break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I now officially have to raise the rating, because, Ladies and Gentlemen. The moment you have been waiting for. Literally half the reason I wrote this fic. SMUT! 
> 
> It's not bad. But I don't know what you children get up to, so we're gonna keep it safe.

Marinette was used to fighting one or two akumas on a weekly basis. It wasn’t unusual for Hawkmoth to send one after three days of the previous. There was a sense of safety that came along with knowing there would be two or three days between each attack, time where she could rest, heal, and catch up on the work she needed to get done. 

So, sitting in class just a day after an akuma attack, one that left bruises on her thigh and running down her spine, and nearly falling asleep on her keyboard, she was not prepared for the alert that came to her phone. 

News alerts set up for “akuma” and “attack” and “Ladybug” buzzed on her phone and she looked down at them sleepily under the desk. 

“Something interesting?” Leroy asked from the front of the room. Marinette jerked upright. Adrenaline was already rushing through her body with the promise of another fight. The ache that had settled into her bones from the day before were distant memories. 

“Yes, actually,” she said as she closed her laptop and gestured to her phone. “Family emergency. I need to take a call.” She didn’t wait for Leroy to let her go. Instead, she nudged past Adrien and the other people in her row to get to the door, pushing out quickly and running to the supply closet she had been using far too much recently. Despite not knowing what day they were going to appear, the akumas had a strangely even time pattern concerning when they emerged during the day. 

She had missed more of Leroy’s class than she had cared to, and her grade was currently suffering for it. 

Ladybug’s suit was a comfort to her muscles, easing the pain that had been inflicted over her in the past weeks. She stretched her arms, flexing the bruising along her back and wincing slightly. A flash of red of her yoyo connected with a building out an open window, and she was flying through the air. 

The akuma announced himself as The Jockey, and apparently he had lost an important race that he was not about to get over. He and a herd of horses overtook the roads. They crashed through, over, and around the cars in the street, rampaging past pedestrians who were scurrying out of the way. A chorus of frightened yells and the shattering of glass, the thud of hooves reached Marinette’s ears from blocks away. 

Her first priority, as it always had to be, were those who could get hurt. She spotted a father with his child in his arms, the little girl screaming and crying from the loud noises. Horror stricken glances were shot throughout the crowds that filled the snowy streets. Eyes glanced up to Ladybug as she took in the scene, sparks of hope flooding their faces. Pointing fingers let others know that she was there, but there were still dozens, hundreds more down the streets who were in danger from the stampede. Intersections were filled with crashed cars. 

Ladybug looked for some way to prevent people from getting in the way. People, she hoped, would have the forethought to dodge the horses. Cars, on the other hand, wouldn't be able to spot the threat before it crashed into them at full speed. 

As she thought, she saw the line of stoplights down the road turning green, their counterparts in the intersections blinking red hazards. Cars that would have barreled to their destruction screeched to halts before the hooves of a thousand horses could trample over them. Marinette touched her earrings, assuming it must have been the magic Tikki possessed, and went to work. 

She had only surveyed the scene for two or three seconds before she was swinging her way towards the akumatized victim and the stampede of more horses than existed in the whole of Paris. Perhaps the whole of the country. They went on for a mile behind her, and she couldn’t see the end of them. 

The jockey was astride a horse that was at least three times the size of the others. It trampled over anything that got in its way, almost touching the street lights above it. Its mane flowed behind it like a beacon for the others in its wake, a signal to follow, a path to lead. 

The ground shook as she landed in front of the akuma, the sheer amount of horses creating an earthquake beneath her feet. The akuma saw her from a block away, and reined in to a halt as the others flew by. An impenetrable barrier of hooves and bodies cascaded by them while Ladybug addressed the akuma. 

It was a quick battle. 

She was left with more bruises than she cared to admit, and her Lucky Charm drained all of the life out of her suit, but it was done quickly. With a flick of her wrist and a call of “Miraculous” erased the waves of animals around her, settled people back in their place, and resurrected crushed cars to their rightful place. 

The wail of an ambulances followed her as she took to the skies yet again. Her home was close, so she landed on her balcony and opened the perpetually unlocked sliding door. Her back ached when she detransformed. The Jockey’s horse had hit her hard while she had been thrown backwards, and she was sure there was a horseshoe-shaped welt forming on her lower back. Among a myriad of different injuries, she had also developed a headache. 

Throbbing pulses came in waves through her head, occasionally stabbing the place behind her eyes. She went to crash in her bed. 

Her face hit her pillow at the same moment her phone buzzed. 

With a groan, she took it out of her pocket and the screen lit up. 

_You alright?_

A message from Adrien. 

“Fuck,” she moaned. She still had school. “Fuck,” she moaned again as she tried to stand up and collapsed a little. Just a little. She hadn't gotten that far in the first place. 

She sucked it up and stood. “Tikki,” she called. “I hope you had your fill because we still have school.”

She could have sworn the little fairy cursed as well. 

\-----

Her bag wasn’t where she had left it when she got back to campus. Marinette hurried through as many building as she could to avoid the cold until she made it to the cafe she and Adrien had been having lunch at. They decided it was easier to work on their project between class where people were already used to seeing him, rather than be bombarded with paparazzi when they tried to be adventurous. 

Marinette had already gotten a call from a local news outlet concerning her relationship with the model. She had told them to fuck off. 

They hadn’t called back. 

Adrien was sitting at their usual table in the corner near the outlets. His computer was plugged in and he was concentration intensely on the screen, scratching along his pristine drawing tablet and making faces as he went. His nose scrunched up when he made a mistake. He tossed his head back and forth happily when he got the color he liked. He tilted his head farther to the side than it ought to go when he was finding which angle to put a particular line or shape. 

Marinette had become familiar with his mannerisms, but it didn’t stop the thumping in her heart when she saw him make a particularly cute face. She tried to hide her amusement with coffee. 

She ordered a caramel frappuccino (with two shots and extra caramel) despite the cold and went to sit down with Adrien. He didn’t blink an eye when she sat and picked through her bag, which he had placed beside her seat. She took her computer from it and began setting up her station. 

“Do you think this should be darker?” he asked, turning around the computer screen so it faced her. She regarded the piece they had been working on for almost a week now. It was still in the rough stages, but they had started adding color to the background in layers. So many layers. 

The purple he chose looked royal. “Yeah.” It needed to look more rock. Less queenly. “Toughen it up a bit.”

He nodded and turned the screen back around, adjusting some settings before turning it back to her. She nodded her consent. Her computer finally - finally - turned on, so she booted up her programs, plugged in her tablet, and sipped her coffee in wait. 

“You should really get a new computer, you know.”

“Oh yes. I am well aware. I’ve needed a new computer since I got this one.” She smirked to herself. 

“Why don’t you get another one?”

She looked up at him incredulously, but he was absorbed in his own screen. Had he really just asked that? The college student who was living on her own in a shitty apartment and in between jobs? Why couldn't she get a new computer?

A flash of his watch, the beautiful Courtier, caught her eye. A little crack, the tiniest fracture appeared in his facade. He had never worried about money for a second in his life. Whenever he needed something for school, some clothes, money to go out for food, he had it at his fingertips. Even if his father didn’t fund him completely, the money from his modeling was more than enough to hold him over until the next job, and the next. 

When he needed a computer for school, he got the newest from the CEO of the company. When he needed photoshop for class, he downloaded it without a thought. He didn’t worry about building credit. He probably didn’t even have to worry about insurance, as loaded as he was. 

So why would anyone else struggle to find money for a computer?

“I can’t afford it,” Marinette said. Honestly, she probably couldn’t afford the coffee she just bought, but that didn’t stop her. It was coffee. 

His head popped up from behind his screen. Realization popped into his head. He probably went through all the same thoughts she had. “Oh.” 

“Yeah.” The program finally loaded, and she brought up the saved files for class. 

They worked for the next hour on the project. It wasn’t ready - not even close - but now they had a more solid idea of what it would look like when it was. The purples, electric greens, and flashes of black and whites and reds would soon flood the screens. 

They listened to the songs that had been released to them while they worked. Brand new songs, never before heard by anyone but them and those in their class. Marinette had been listening to them religiously as she worked. She already knew every word, but she wasn’t about to start singing. 

He was a big fan too, apparently. Adrien had been just as excited than she was to be able to work on the project. To even get the barest chance at seeing Jagged Stone live. Marinette’s heart fluttered just thinking about it. 

A lady walking by them stumbled slightly and dropped the phone in her hand. Adrien’s hand shot out and snatched it from the air before it fell and shattered on the ground. Marinette almost couldn’t keep up with the movement. The girl thanked him when he handed the phone back to her, blushed when she saw that he was hot - it’s still a shock, honey - and walked away red-faced, mouthing “Holy fuck” to herself. 

Marinette laughed to herself. 

“What?” Adrien had those puppy dog eyes he got when he was curious. Marinette almost withheld the blush from her face. 

“Nothing.” She wasn’t about to share the details of his attractiveness. “Quite the reflexes you’ve got there.”

He looked back at the girl whose phone he had saved. “Oh. Yeah.” His hand went to scratch the hairs at the back of his neck. It was a mannerism that Marinette found more than endearing. Especially when he was standing up and she could just catch a sliver of skin when the movement pulled his shirt up - fuck! Impure thoughts. Again. She shook them from her head. “I took up some classes after you saved me from getting my ass handed to me.” A little blush formed on his face. It wasn’t a look she was familiar with. 

She lost the battle with her own blush. 

“Really? That’s cool.”

“Yeah. I guess.” A slight silence. “What did you take?” 

“What?”

“What classes did you take?”

“Um…” She didn’t quite know what to say. She couldn't quite say that her fighting skills were the residual memories of her past lives who fought by the power of a tiny red fairy who granted her the ability to punch the shit out of anyone who looked at her wrong. It would be an entertaining topic of conversation, but there were some things that needed to remain mysterious. It’s not like she had anything else going for her. “Self-defense classes,” she settled on. 

“Cool,” he said. 

“Yup.” Awkward pause… absent shuffling… just a hint of eye contact to make sure that the other person is having as rough a go of it as the other. “How do you like it?”

He perked up at the new line of conversation. “It’s great. I mean, it passes the time,” he said. “Between photoshoots and press conferences and stuff, there’s a lot of down time. I can’t spend all of my time playing video games, however much I might like to.”

“What do you play?”

He glanced up, surprised. “Mecha Strike II.”

“See, I like the third one more. The advanced system makes the movements smoother and the controls easier to operate.” Marinette liked all of them, but she payed Mecha Strike III the most. She had racked up more than three hundred hours in a little over a year. Her dad let her have the gaming system and all of the games they owned when she moved out, so she only had some of the older ones, but they passed the time. 

The two were totally engaged now. Adrien sat forward, the project momentarily forgotten. “Yeah, but if you time it right, you can use the glitches in the system to deliver double blows and criticals.”

“I’ve heard. I just never got the hang of it. I guess I just played the third one too much.” 

“What else do you play?” 

“Hitman Mafia.” 

Adrien’s smile got really wide. “The classics, eh?”

“I don’t really have the money to spend on sixty dollar games nowadays, however much I may want to. I still barely have time to play the games I have anyway.” 

“Maybe I can let you borrow something sometime.”

“Really?” 

“Oh yeah. It’s not like I’m gonna play them all at once.” They smiled widely at each other. 

“I would like that.”

“Yeah. I don’t really have anyone else to share them with, either, so…” 

Marinette’s smile got concerned. “What do you mean?” 

His hand automatically came to scratch at the nape of his neck. A light blush came across his cheeks and he averted his gaze. “Well, you know. My father keeps me on a pretty tight leash. I’ve only really just started to tug.” 

A long silence spanned between them. This time, though, there was nothing awkward. Marinette was concerned. She didn’t really know anything about this boy, did she?

“How about this?” He caught her eye. “My friend Alya and I go out all the time to that bar we met at once. Remember?”

“Yeah, I almost got my ass handed to me.” 

“I’ll be sure that doesn't happen again. But only if you come along and promise to have a good time.” An inkling of a plan began to form in her head. She would have to look through her phone a little to be sure that it would work, that enough people would come, and that nobody would be a dick about it. But it would work. It would be fun. “What do you say…? Friday?”

He looked unsure at first. “Come on. It’ll be fun. I promise.” She held out her pinkie finger to him. He paused tentatively, eyeing her. Finally, he relented with a sighing smile and hooked his pinkie around hers. 

“Alright. I guess I gotta go.”

“Damn right, you do.” 

\-----

“Fuck no, I’m not!”

Alya was holding up a piece of fabric that could not have covered up more than a singular boob, let alone her entire body. She was nodding excitedly and stretching the material in her hands. The black bodysuit was like her prized treasure. She looked with such awe at the garment, like it held an entire world of sexy possibilities. 

And it would. On anyone other than Marinette. Because...

“I’m. Not. Wearing it.” Alya began chasing her with it, using the stretchy material like a weapon, hitting Marinette from across the room. Alya had better aim than she should have. “What is this even made of? Spandex burlap blend? It feels like sandpaper.”

“But girl, you will look _so hot_.” She stressed the words like they were painful. “Just put it on. Please? Please please please? You’ll look so good just try it on for me please.” Alya had collapsed onto Marinette’s couch, pleading with the black thing in her hands. “Marineeeeeeette!”

“Holy fuck _fine_.”

Alya knew that she would win the battle, but it didn’t stop her from letting out a giggle of glee. “Girl, you’re gonna look so good.” Whenever they had somewhere to go that was more… special than usual, Alya went out of her way to dress Marinette in everything she could. Going to a club, they wore next to nothing. Going to a New Year’s party, she was in all gold. Going to the zoo, she had zebra striped shoes and a shirt to match. Okay, she didn’t go that crazy. She had limits. 

Marinette hadn’t found them yet, though. 

Emerging from her room with the black bodysuit made her feel ridiculous. She didn’t have near the breasts that Alya had, and the garment had stretched in the bust so it made it look like it was swallowing Marinette. It hugged her every curve, wherever they existed, and went down to just below her panty line, creating a little short short effect. 

Alya appraised her. “Giiirl.” Marinette blushed. She felt herself being whisked away to get dressed by her best friend, made up, hair done, and the works. Stray hairs were plucked from her head and her face. Everything was waxed, because why not. She had a pair of falsies on that made her eyelashes look like wings, but Alya said they gave her face a better shape, so she went with it. It’s not like she was going to get away with anything less. Her lips were painted a dangerous shade of red, her eyes a smoky black that somehow matched the lacy black bodysuit. 

She had made Alya let her put on her warmest fleece leggings, only because they were black and made her butt look good. But that was the only thing she let Marinette have control over. It was a nice feeling, really, having things done for her. Despite her complaints to the contrary, Marinette loved the bickering over clothes, the way Alya made her look, and the way she felt when she was all done. 

Over the bodysuit came a sparkly silver scarf that served absolutely no function, and a slimming black jacket that Alya had zipped up to just below her cleavage, “To make them look bigger,” she claimed. She pulled on heeled silver boots that she had bought on a whim, mostly because they looked warm and cute, the only things Marinette looked for when the cold months rolled in. The only other thing she was allowed was her large pink coat to shield from the cold. Marinette was under strict instructions to take it off as soon as they entered the bar. 

When they approached the mirror, she had to admit, Alya knew what she was doing. Her eyes and lips appeared bigger, her face slimmer, her boobs like actual boobs. She looked hot. Alya was ecstatic. 

“Okay. Let’s go.” Alya had somehow managed to get ready in the minutes it took Marinette to check herself out in the mirror. She had smudged eyeliner across her lids, liquid lipstick across her lips, and pulled on the leather jacket that she came in with. She always looked hot. But with a face and body like that, it was hard not to. There was only one time that Marinette had ever seen Alya look unattractive, and it was in a picture, mid-sneeze, while she was sick. The picture had been deleted immediately. 

The bar was more crowded than it usually was, but they knew it was because of the virtual party of people they had invited. If Adrien was going to make friends, then he was going to make a lot of them. Alya had already printed out a sheet of paper with everyone’s full name and number, with a reminder to check facebook if he forgot a face. 

The pair came shivering from the frigid night air and into the pack of people they invited. Alya and Marinette both invited as many people as would come, and almost all of them had come. Juleka from Marinette’s digital art class would be a nice buffer to meet with her girlfriend Rose, and their close friends Ivan and Mylene. Kim came along with Max, Alya knowing them from her work. Nathanael, Sabrina, Alix, and at least ten more people were grouped behind, and not even everyone had shown up yet. Alya went straight to the back of the bar where Felix was still writing and drinking. He seemed to never leave. 

Marinette walked over to their group of invited friends with a welcoming round of cheers and raised glasses. They all went around to hug each other, all knowing each other through one person or another. Some had gone to school together, others had been invited to the same parties, and some had introduced the girls to another. It was the largest group of friends that Marinette had assembled in a long time, but she thought it a good cause. 

Minutes after they had arrived, they turned their heads to the door as Adrien Agreste and Nino walked into the bar. 

Snow fell from their hair and jackets as they stamped their feet on the wet entryway floor, the flakes falling around them and giving them their own private glow. Marinette’s heart fluttered as she looked at Adrien, who had just caught her eye from across the bar. A question fell across his face and she waved them over with a smile. 

“Everyone, this is Adrien and Nino. Adrien and Nino, this is… wow this is a lot of people.” A chorus of ‘hi’s and ‘yo’s sprung up behind her. A broad smile of pride had overtaken her face. “Surprise!” 

She awkwardly bounced on the balls of her feet in front of the two guys, glancing between her group of established friends and the two outsiders, suddenly unsure if this was a good idea. But when Nino clapped Adrien on the back and went in to join in the festivities, the tension broke. She flushed at Adrien’s smile and had to keep a couple feet away from him at all times to prevent herself from being pulled into his gaze. 

To say the two hit it off with the rest of the group would be an understatement. It was as if they had all known each other for years. They had grown up together, been friends since the beginning of time. After several hours of catching up, Marinette watched from a quiet corner, nursing a drink and an overwhelming buzz as Adrien was introduced to person after person, adding contact after contact into his phone. Alya’s cheat sheet was soon proven useless. 

Alya and Felix sat at the back of the bar, talking, laughing, and watching. She found Nino watching Alya’s flirtiness right next to her. 

“Whatcha lookin at?” she asked, bumping his shoulder with her own. 

He was knocked out of his daze and turned to look at the girl next to him. “Nothing.” He tried to recover from his staring, but the flushed cheeks gave it away. 

“I don’t know. It seems like you’ve got your eye on some… thing.” The red color of his face deepened. He was adorable when he blushed. She didn’t mind admitting that to herself. 

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I can do anything about it. She’s kind of off limits at the moment. Unlike your situation.” He bumped her shoulder back. Her head swirled with drink. 

She was taken aback for a second. “What do you mean?”

He scoffed. “Oh please. You don’t think I haven’t seen the way you look at my boy? You’ve got it bad for him.” 

It was Marinette’s turn to blush. “I have not - I don’t… No, I mean, he’s just - we’re friends, and -” he nodded along with her rebuttals, but she continued to stammer on. 

“I’ve heard that before.” He sipped on his drink. 

“Yeah, well,” she sputtered. “It’s not like I can just go up to him and start… I don’t know-”

“Talking?”

“Yeah!” He laughed. “It’s not that easy, you know!”

“No, you’re right. It’s not.” 

“And it doesn’t help-” she took a long draw from her glass “-that I am drunk.”

She slumped into her seat and took some sips of her drink. The clatter of the bar rose in her ears, and she watched her closest friends mingle with one another. Adrien was currently talking with Kim and Alix, who were probably going to challenge him to a competition of some kind. The fire in Kim’s eyes was already raging, but Alix had that stern set of her shoulders that meant she was ready for business. Adrien was laughing heartily at their banter, and a grin appeared on Marinette’s face. 

“You got all done up for something.”

She glance back to Nino, who was staring at her now. She registered her words and remembered her wardrobe choices for the evening. “Oh this? Alya likes to make me over sometimes.”

“She does a good job of it.” 

“Yeah, she does.” She didn’t register the tone of his voice. She wasn’t really one to flirt. He seemed to notice the lack of response, because he laughed. “What?”

“When was the last time you had a boyfriend?”

The question struck her. “I don’t - know. Why?”

“You seem… I dunno. Tense. Like you haven’t had it really good in a while.”

She registered the tone this time. The challenge was on, she thought, and she took a sip of her drink and turned in her chair to face him. “Well, I don’t exactly need a boyfriend for that, do I?” They glanced at each other with knowing smiles. 

“I don’t suppose you do.” 

They sat in silence for a little while longer, until Alix and Kim were about to pick a fight to see who could last longer against the increasingly drunken masses. The amount of bar fights they had been in rivaled that of Wolverine on a bad weekend. They loved to find the biggest, meanest looking person at any particular bar and get Kim to hit on his girlfriend. Everyone knew he only had eyes for Alix. Well, everyone except Alix. She thought he was into Max. Which he was, but not to the extent of his infatuation with her spitfire spirit. 

They were already to Phase II of their three phase plan, one that almost always worked. 

“We should probably leave,” Marinette said, and Nino agreed. Somehow, she found herself in the passenger seat of his car, giving him directions to her apartment - after she gave him a breathalyzer test, made his walk in a straight line, and touch his fingers to his nose with his eyes closed. 

“Did you not drive with Adrien?” she asked.

“Nah, he has his own driver. We just walked in together.” He turned a corner at her notice. “His dad still keeps a pretty tight leash on him.”

“So I’ve heard.” 

“And you?” 

“I came with Alya. I don’t have a car. Or a driver.” He scoffed at that. “I already let her know I was getting a ride home.” 

They pulled up to a vacant spot across the street from her apartment and locked the doors behind them. Marinette struggled with the keys, but eventually opened the sets of doors required to make it to the chilled cellar that was her apartment. 

“Sorry for the temperature. My heater’s been broken since my first winter here.” She took off her jacket and hung it by the door. He followed suit close behind. She hadn’t noticed the clinginess of his shirt while they were in the bar. It stuck to him like glue. Her face heated despite the cold. “Water?” 

“Sure.” 

She clanged around in the kitchen while he explored her tiny apartment. Her hands were slightly shaking with drink, and her stomach fluttered with something other than alcohol. He walked to the wall of pictures of Marinette, Alya, and her family and friends. Christmas pictures of her family in tacky sweaters, laughing at the beach, smiling in front of the tower, her’s and Alya’s lock on the Pont des Arts. They had made sure their friendship would never die with a special lock they had worked for weeks on designing and making. 

Nino smiled as he looked around, and Marinette came up to him with cold tap water in an old mug. They grinned at each other and clinked glasses. 

“Cute place you’ve got here.” 

“It makes due.” She went to sit on the couch and take her shoes off, inviting him to do the same. She curled her feet up under her while he took a seat, careful not to spill the water in his glass. 

“How long have you lived here?”

“About two years now. A little over. This is my third winter here, and I moved in… November, I think. So two years and two months -ish.” She took a sip of water and glanced around the room. There were a lot of things she could see that needed fixing, but none of them could be handled at the moment. She was itching to get her hands on something. 

It had been a long time since she had been with anyone. She felt a strange absence in the pit of her stomach - a longing that wanted to be comforted. It was her decaying sense of self assurance that needed to be remedied, and she didn’t know any way to get that done. So now, she wasn’t thinking. Again. 

“Do you usually have guys over?”

The question would have shocked Marinette if she weren’t tipsy. “Only the best friends of the guys I have crushes on,” she hummed back.

He giggled stupidly. “She finally admits it!”

“Don’t tell Alya. If she knew that I admitted it to you before her, she would probably wipe you off the face of the earth to be the only person who could say she knew my crush.”

“It’s not like she’s the only one who knows.” Marinette hid her face in her glass. “I mean. I’m pretty sure he’s the only one who doesn’t know.”

“I could say the same thing about you and Alya.” She couldn’t. She knew it. His infatuation was new. It wasn’t like he broadcast the signals she did. Nino wasn’t the type of person who fawned over his crush and looked no where else. She told herself that she wasn’t like that either. Maybe that’s why she was here. 

In the back of her mind, she knew that this probably wasn’t the best idea. But they both knew their boundaries. They knew that this wasn’t going to be a thing. And even if it was, it would be short lived. There wasn’t any harm in it, so she dove in. 

As he started to speak again, she grabbed the glass out of his hand and set it on the table on a coaster. It was a little too late - the wood was nearly warped with coffee stains and water rings - but she had some dignity still. He looked at her with half-lidded eyes as she leaned into him, and gave a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

Pulling away slightly, she tested his willingness. As her lips parted with his, a hand came to the back of her head and pulled her closer, reaffirming their connection. Marinette breathed into him as he leaned back, letting her roll on top of him while he settled into the couch. 

Her hands roamed around his chest and abdomen while his traced patterns along her legs and back. She arched ever so slightly into him, adding a touch of pressure into a grind. Nino grunted out a sound of pleasure and a smile came to her lips. His turned up and they giggled together. In one swift motion, he curled an arm around her back and flipped them both over, positioning her beneath him. Their lips broke apart with the movement and Marinette’s head bounced against the pillow, the top of her head cracking against the arm of the couch. 

“Ow,” she muttered. 

Nino pulled back and looked down at her, settling back to his knees to take stock of the damage. “Shit, sorry.” They let out a laugh as she rubbed the back of her head. 

“It’s fine.” She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him back to her. He nearly collapsed on her, but braced himself with his elbows on either side, resuming their kissing. 

The hem of his shirt budged upward, urged on by Marinette’s fingers. Within seconds, it was on the floor, foreplay be damned. Nimble fingers unbuttoned her pants and pulled them off of her legs, discarding them along with his shirt. He looked down at her bodysuit and faltered. “Um…” She looked down at it. “Are you wearing a leotard?” 

Marinette snorted. “It’s a bodysuit, ass.” He ran a finger along the hem across her chest, and her sarcasm stuck in her throat. The low cut made his fingers dip in between the valley of her breasts, and as he made his way up to the spaghetti strap cinched across her shoulder, he hooked his finger and drew it away. The strap slipped off her shoulder, allowing a large expanse of skin for him to pepper with kisses. A volley of affection across her collarbone sent a wave of shivers down her spine, and heat began to spread between her legs. 

The other strap was suddenly lost, the elastic stretching the upper hem down her chest, nearly revealing herself fully to him. Instead, she reached down to his pants, unbuttoning them deftly and pushing him back onto his knees. She kissed his chest as he sat back, and she felt more than heard his panting breaths as he looked down at her. Their eyes met briefly and she gave him a devilish smile, dipping lower, towards the hardening bulge in his pants. His eyes glazed over for a moment as she kissed there, his breath hitching, and she pulled away. 

She could see the wash of cold drip over him as she got off the couch, turned her back to him, and slinked toward the closed door of her bedroom. Tikki had fluttered off towards her bedroom while she had distracted Nino from her presence. She was likely hiding in one of the many crevices she had stuffed with warm blankets. There was a basket filled with insulating wool and a heated blanket just for situations like this. 

Marinette looked back to Nino, who was sitting on the couch and staring as she walked away. To be fair, the bodysuit made her ass look fantastic, a fact that Alya had relayed to her on many occasions. She felt his eyes scan her, and allowed the suit to pull away from her body, collecting around her waist, leaving her entire back exposed. 

As the door opened, she bent quickly and did away with the rest of her clothing. The room was cold, something that her nipples noticed immediately, but something that she ignored as she led him to crawl into her bed. He grabbed at her hips as they walked together, showering her shoulders and neck with kisses as they went. 

They collapsed together onto the bed. Marinette situated herself under him, allowing herself to enjoy the feeling of being felt. She breathed into his fingers, the knee he placed between her thighs, and curled her nails into his bare back, creating half-moon impressions as she went. 

His jeans were soon on the floor, along with the long underwear anyone would be crazy not to wear in this weather. They fumbled for a moment when he reached for his wallet to get the condom stored there, while she reached into her bedside table. They ended up going with hers, because his wallet had made its way under her bed, and they were not about to waste time fishing for it. 

Bodies entwined together, Marinette wrapping legs around his hips, his arms firmly encircling her waist. Foreheads touched while lips remained free, both sets of eyes closed to focus on the feeling. Their breath mingled between them, increasing the heat, and a soft chorus of moans floated through the room. 

With the last shuddering breaths, they crashed together, both calling out the names of others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little Marinino for the soul.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marinette has a hangover.
> 
> Edit: In which Marinette has a bad day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting early because I'm gonna be busy all day tomorrow. Unfortunately, that means this chapter is a little shorter than usual (and it doesn't have some of the things I wanted to be in there), but if I manage to get the time, I may post the second part of this chapter a little later in the week. 
> 
> As always, thank you all for sticking with me through this. I'm having a lot of fun writing this story, and I hope y'all are, too!
> 
> Edit: New ending section of the chapter because I'm never happy with my work!  
> TW: death mention, description of a panic attack.

Marinette woke up with a headache that could take down three fully grown men if split equally between them. She immediately regretted every life choice that led her to that moment, including leaving the curtains open. The sun washed over her as her eyes cracked open unwillingly. For a cloudy morning, it was ungodly bright. 

She turned over herself, feeling the warm blankets fall across her naked skin, and noticed briefly the emptiness in bed beside her. With a groan, she threw herself out of bed to get the coffee that awaited her. If only it made itself. 

In the kitchen, she was almost shocked to see Nino, standing in jeans, sipping from a mug of coffee. She cinched her eyebrows as she walked up to him - not hiding the fact that she was still naked - and took the cup of warm coffee from his hand without a word. Cream and sugar was set up on the counter. She had no idea how long it took him to find sugar in the mess of her kitchen, but he had. “Good morning,” she mumbled through foul breath. 

When she caught a whiff of herself she grimaced. “I’m going to take a shower.” She dragged her feet along the cold floor, not even trying to look appealing. “You can join me if you want, but I have to brush my teeth first.”

He shrugged and went with her. 

After he left - which wasn’t for a while if we’re being honest here - she called Alya, who hadn’t had as much luck as she had. She was just as hungover, but it didn’t stop her from screeching. 

“You fucked Nino?”

Marinette held the phone away from her ear for a moment to let the wave of shock pass vefore answering. “Yeah.” 

“Adrien’s best and only friend?”

“I wouldn't say only-”

“Twice?”

“It was more like five…”

“Five?!”

“...or six?”

“Six times?!”

“It’s just sex, Alya. It’s not like anything’s gonna come of it. I mean, we both have-” She was about to say that they both had crushes on other people, but she knew that information would be pried out of her cold dead hands if she offered up any hint. She wouldn't be the person to tell Alya that Nino had a crush on her. No matter the friend code, Alya was close to a relationship, and Marinette could not damage that. 

Nino would just have to wait. 

“Well.” They sat for a moment on the phone, Marinette pouring herself another cup of coffee - her fourth - while Alya typed away endlessly on her keyboard. “Was is good?”

Marinette hung up and tossed her phone onto the couch, not caring that it bounced to the floor as she overshot it. That phone would never die. 

Much to her chagrin, the phone started vibrating with alerts. She moaned and walked around the couch, flumping down onto it and retrieving her phone from under the table. Adrenaline spiked as the news alert for ‘akuma’ came across her screen, but it was a false alarm. 

Some local journalist had written a piece about the hacking that had occurred in the video cameras around town when there was an akuma attack. Marinette didn’t have anything better to do, so she did what she rarely ever did, and started to read an article about herself. The hacking had been nearly untraceable, only found out because a secure server had a trip that hadn’t been disabled. 

The report went on to say that more hacking had been reported around the city when the akuma attacks occurred. Cameras followed Ladybug as she swung to and fro, but more interestingly, lighting systems from the city and in private buildings had been switched in the midst of an attack. Marinette thought back to her latest attacker, the Jockey. While horses rampaged through the street, the traffic lights had switched to red, preventing anyone from entering the path of the stampede. She thought it had been her doing. 

“Tikki!” Marinette called. The fairy flew from her spot in the closet and settled near the crook of her neck, where she was still warm from the shower. 

“What is it, Marinette?” Tikki said. 

“When we were fighting the Jockey, did we do anything with the traffic lights?”

The little red kwami shook her head. “No. We don’t possess that kind of magic. Heightened strength and speed, sure, but we can’t manipulate electricity like Lady Wifi.” They looked at the phone for a moment, contemplating. “Why?”

Marinette thought back further. “So when we were fighting Siren, we didn’t set off the lights either?”

“No. We couldn't have.”

Thoughts and memories circulated in her head. “And the barriers in the windows hadn’t been tripped until we were in the building, even though Siren had used most of her abilities outside the building. And the akuma before Jockey, the Riddler, she got shocked by the electrical fence, even though it had been disabled. Tikki.” 

“Yes, Marinette?”

“I think people are hacking us.”

The implication was lost. “What do you mean? They watched through the cameras, right?”

“Right. But I’m talking about someone hacking to _fight_.” She stared at her phone while a sinking feeling balled in the pit of her stomach. “Someone is actively helping us by hacking into the electrical systems.”

“What’s wrong?” Tikki laid a hand on Marinette’s cheek, where a generous flush was forming. 

“I don’t know.” She did. 

She didn’t like the idea that someone thought she was weak, or that she needed any sort of help. She had been Ladybug for a long time, and had picked up a lot of skills, and she didn’t need assistance doing her job. It was stressful, sure, and she had a hard go of it sometimes, but it was her work. No one else’s. She couldn't let others be hurt. But she didn’t tell Tikki. She just shook her head. 

“I don’t know.” 

A deeper headache was forming in between her eyes, and she pinched the bridge of her nose to try to ward it off. Her head was pounding though all the lights in the room were turned off. She thought she could smell the bacon being cooked downstairs and the smell made her nauseous. She wanted to curl into a ball and hide from the world until the bad feelings went away. 

But the word didn’t like to be hidden from. 

Her phone beeped again, the word akuma scrawled across several news lines. Marinette thought little of it until more popped up. “Akuma attack...” “New Akuma Villain Spotted...” “Ladybug Needed…”

“Aw, fuck!” Marinette moaned and told Tikki to transform her. 

Even in the suit, her body ached. The joints of her shoulders cried out as she swung through buildings and around chimneys, her legs yelled at her as they pounded across rooftops and pavements like, her head was stabbing itself with tiny needles to try and end the misery. But still, she kept running. 

All the alerts told her to head toward the Parc de Princes, and she hurried in that direction. She flew across the Seine in one swing and her body protested the movement. Tikki must be tired, too. Even if it had been three days since the last attack, more than enough time for them to recuperate, Tikki took as much energy from Marinette as Marinette did her, and both their energy was low, their bodies sore and lethargic. 

It took more time than it should have for Ladybug to make it to the grand stadium, where some performance had been interrupted by an akumatized victim. Light flashed across tendrils of spiky arms that flicked through the air, cutting, stabbing, and slicing everything they touched. The screams of those in the stadium crescendoed as they made it to the doors and found they were locked. 

Ladybug didn’t take the time to survey the scene, however much she wanted to. Her mind was slower than it should be, and she knew it would take far too much time, and people were already being injured below her. 

As a shimmering spiked limb shot out toward the crowd of people cowering at the doors of the stadium, Ladybug dropped in front of the projectile, spinning her yoyo fast enough that it formed a shield in front of the innocent passersby. The arm at had reached her shattered and spit back, the entire length falling into pieces, lifeless on the floor. They glittered in the dim light of the day. 

Ladybug waded through the frightened crowd of people and with one deft kick, broke open the doors. It only took seconds for the crowd to disappear out the door, all trying to fight each other to be the first to leave. 

With the majority of the innocents to safety, and all who were left inching toward the now opened door, Marinette took the time to survey the scene. She didn’t see the akuma, and assumed that it would be regrouping after she had shattered its arm. 

The shards of material lying on the floor were thick like a carpet as she approached. Crouching down, she examined one sharp piece, holding it up to the light. 

Unnaturally clear glass, sharp on all edges, seemed to disappear at every other angle. Even as she felt it in her fingers, it seemed as if she was holding something invisible, until a hint of light caught it at the right angle and the entire thing became visible to her again. She could feel the razor edges biting into her skin.

Movement below her caught her eyes. She looked down and saw the other shards shaking slightly, as if trying to assemble themselves together again. The piece in her hand pulled itself away from her like it was attached to a string and jumped away. Her eyes followed the trajectory, where the akuma stood, seemingly made of the glass-like material that had been made of her arm. 

The akuma stood in the very center of the stadium-turned-arena and Marinette's mind flashed back to her first battle against Stone Heart in this very location. She had barely been able to escape his grasp the first time, and when the butterfly carrying the evil magic multiplied and spread, she thought the day would be lost. It was the first time that Marinette had acted purely on instinct, in that first battle, and it hadn’t done her any good. 

Now, with years of experience under her belt, she was ready, more than ready, to fight this akuma. 

The shards of glass covered her in intricate patterns, obscuring the skin that was translucent like the rest of her costume. Marinette tried to focus on all of her at the same time, but as soon as her eyes moved to another part of her body, the previous section was lost to her eyes. It was as if the akuma was disappearing and reappearing just as quickly, transforming before her eyes. 

A wicked smile appeared on the akuma’s face, right before her entire body vanished. 

Ladybug bent her knees in a ready position, flashes of movement hitting her from the corners of her eyes. She scanned the entire area, trying to find something that would indicate the akuma’s location. She saw nothing. Even the tendrils of glass shards were obscured to her. 

A dull, quick impact in her back sent her forward, somersaulting and crouching down, her yoyo streaking out behind her and catching nothing. The air behind her was vacated before she had the chance to make an attack, and there seemed to be nothing else in the vicinity. 

A tug at her ponytail sent her reeling around, swinging her yoyo laterally through the air to catch whatever she could. Mocking laughter followed her. 

Marinette’s face contorted into a scowl as she resigned herself to listening instead of looking. The faint clink of glass on glass surrounded her, rendering that line of detection useless. Almost imperceptible movement was all around her. 

Finally, when Ladybug assumed the mirage took too much energy to maintain, the akuma’s tentacle appeared and bore down on her, crashing directly where she had been a split second before. Her yoyo whizzed through the arm, breaking it in half, but the pieces sewed themselves together as soon as they broke apart. Again, the tendril of glassy anger followed in her path, and Marinette kept her yoyo whistling in circles to prevent any of the tiny darts of glass to come anywhere near her. 

They seemed to work simultaneously and independently. Like a well-commanded army. Each piece had their objective, and they worked together when necessary, and took their own charges when the opportunity struck. Ladybug found herself fighting against individual bits with her hands while her yoyo took the majority of the tentacle. Tiny, paper-cut like wounds marred her hands, and eventually her fingers were dripping with blood. 

Futilely, she shot her yoyo out with one major swipe, coming down across the line of glass. The tendril burst into fragments, falling to the floor like they did before, bearing their master to her. 

Ladybug named this one Mirage, her face shocked and contorted into a dozen different expressions at once. The set of her mouth finally formed into a scowl, and she flashed out of sight again. 

Useless while she watched, Marinette set herself to swiping through the air with her yoyo randomly, hoping to catch the akuma. Ladybugs were a symbol of good luck, right? She needed some at that moment. 

Something bore into her back, and she felt a long slice of something cutting into her. She tried to bite back a scream unsuccessfully as she rolled away, dodging whatever came next and blindly sending her yoyo out behind her. A gross sense of satisfaction came with the grunt that followed the contact of the yoyo. 

Mirage stood, clutching her arm. At least, Marinette assumed that she was. It was hard to tell either way. 

After she disappeared, Ladybug took the moment of opportunity to call for her Lucky Charm. A red and black-spotted torch fell into her hands in one moment, and in the next, she was being pummeled in the back with sharp fists. 

A quick flip of the switch turned the light on, and she pointed it as she twisted at face the akuma. The brightness caused Mirage to cover her eyes, and for the first time, Marinette could see every movement clearly. The light refracted throughout the akuma’s body, and she stood out from the grassy stadium, clear as day. 

Ladybug smirked at the sudden look of panic that came across Mirage’s face, and took that moment to fire her yoyo toward the akuma. She was met with more glass shards firing at her, and it took everything she had to prevent herself from being sliced to ribbons. 

When the tendril was dispatched, the torch’s light searched for the akuma. She whipped around in search, making sure to keep moving and prevent another attack from behind. Blood could be felt dripping from her hand, and sliding down her back. It couldn't be said how many wounds she had now, but she couldn’t think of that now. The pounding in her head, ache in her body, and sharp pain of the cuts all over came second to making sure this akuma would never be able to hurt anyone else. 

The flash of light was reciprocated as it bounced off of Mirage, and Ladybug bore down, her yoyo hitting her as swiftly as possible to break down her defences. A chorus of grunts came from her as she was hit again and again, beating her until she had to crouch to the floor and protect her middle. As she went to wrap the thin yet indestructible chord around the akuma and render her immobile, another tentacle of glass blindsided her with a gesture from Mirage. A nearly imperceptible flick of the wrist sent glass shards toward Mari, blocking the yoyo from trapping her in its grip. 

Ladybug flew across the stadium, coming to a rolling halt and hitting the ground and the wall hard. She grunted and looked up. 

The red torch was half way across the stadium, glinting in the cloudy light of the day, but nothing else seemed to be in the cavernous space. She struggled to stand up, her yoyo retracting into itself slowly. Her eyes scanned and she waited for another attack. For now, she could only play defence until she got the light back. 

The face of Mirage appeared in front of her as the stadium lights poured down suddenly. Both clenched their eyes shut to shield from the blinding lights, a thousand times more potent than the handheld torch Ladybug was wielding. The entire space was flooded with light, and her head pounded with hangover and new opportunity. 

Finally, she could see the small glass figurine that hung at the neck of the akuma, glittering with its own faint purple light. Marinette went out to grasp it as Mirage flicked her wrist again, sending the glass shards into her. Their pierced into her arm and she cried out with the unbearable pain it caused. The force that knocked her over also brought the akuma-infected necklace to the breaking point, and the chain shattered like glass. 

Mirage, her form flickering in the stadium lights, stood tall and intimidating over Ladybug, who looked as crippled as she felt. A wave of hopelessness washed over her as fear settled in her stomach. The feeling was painfully familiar, and unwelcome memories flashed into her mind. 

Tears not brought by the shards of glass sticking from her body coursed down her face as she brought the necklace in her hand into the ground. The glass broke in two and a purple butterfly wiggled out. 

Ladybug struggled to manually open the yoyo at her side to begin the healing process as Mirage took one last opportunity for attack. 

She didn’t know how, because darkness overtook her in those final moments, but the akuma was cleansed. 

When she came to, it was with the woman who had been akumatized hovering over her. 

“Ladybug? Are you okay?”

Her breath left her body as she realized she hadn’t detransformed. She looked down at her costume, which was still encasing her with red warmth, and felt tremendous relief. 

The woman kneeling over her was older than she expected. Lines creased her face and she grasped the glass figurine that had been her sickness tightly in her hand. Her hair was frazzled and unkempt, as were her clothes, but the clearness of her eyes reminded Marinette of the glass she used as her weapon. 

Ladybug struggled to sit up. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.” It hurt even worse to stand, but she did and lent a hand to the woman who had just been cleansed. “Are you alright? You had it worse than me.”

The woman nodded. “Yeah. I think so. I was an akuma?” A tear leaked from her eye. 

“You were. But you’re better now. Everything’s going to be okay. I promise.”

Ladybug instructed her with a sure voice to leave the stadium and find help. She couldn’t let her see the pain she struggled against, even while the blood leaked down her side. She watched as the woman made her way from the stadium, shaking and scared, wishing she could have helped, but she would have fared no better. And it wouldn't have benefitted either of them to see the Hero of Paris in such a vulnerable position. 

Slowly, she made her way to the middle of the field, where the red spotted Lucky Charm awaited her. There was no enthusiasm in her chant, but she could feel the slight ebbing of pain as healing powers washed over her. They wouldn’t do much, but enough. The rushing feeling of the magic overpowered her and she had to keep herself from collapsing. 

Eyes seemed to be watching her as she stood there, but she knew the stadium would be empty by then. There was relatively no structural damage, and anyone who had been hurt would be outside where the paramedics awaited them. 

Still, the feeling wouldn't cease. 

Marinette shifted her shoulders back and looked around. Cameras pointed to her, watching, and she realized she _was_ being watched. Of course. As she saw more of them, she could see every one was pointing to her, the small light flashing to say they were on. Boldness crept into her belly, and she had to know. 

“Can you…” she cleared her throat and tried again, calling louder. “Can you hear me?”

For a moment, it felt ridiculous. She was calling into an empty stadium. Of course no one would be able to hear her. Her shoulders slumped and she began to walk away when the light of the jumbojet screen came to life. 

Her eyes latched onto the screen, blank for a moment, then with the pixelated animation of a black cat, with bright green eyes staring down at her. A flush of heat began in her gut. The cat seemed to laugh down at her, bearing bright white teeth, and then it was gone. 

The lights of the stadiums crashed off, leaving her stumbling blindly, with more questions than she had answers. 

As per usual. 

\-----

Marinette crashed into her bedroom with a racing heart. Tikki flooded out of her earrings, spinning out of control and landing on the bed with an unceremonious dismount from her chosen. Marinette’s chest was constricting, her vision blurring with tears that she was trying to fight, but they stuck in her throat, making it impossible to breathe. She battled for air, gasping and wiping tears angrily from her cheeks. 

“Marinette!” Tikki called worriedly after her, buzzing through her exhaustion. “Are you okay?”

No sound came from her lips but a wheeze. She shook her head, trying to convey some sort of emotion without a voice. She had no idea what was going on. 

Her mind was racing with thoughts that she couldn't comprehend. The world was crashing down on her chest, but her head felt light as air, in the clouds, pounding against the brightness of the sun. She ached from the battle, her wounds barely cleared by Tikki’s efforts at healing while in the suit. 

“Breathe, Marinette. Take deep breaths.” 

Tikki appeared like a tiny red dot before her, floating in and out of focus, her antennae and black spots blurring together, blue eyes shining with worry. 

“Marinette! Please!” 

She could barely her over the pounding of her heart. What’s wrong? What’s wrong with her? She had never felt this way before, the feeling of helplessness and powerlessness. She want to fight it, but couldn’t find the energy to do anything other than keep herself upright. 

Her phone rang, and she pawed for it, patting it out of her pocket and holding it to her ear before she read the caller ID.

“Hey, girl. Do you wanna go out to- Marinette?”

“Alya?”

“Girl, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m on my way, give me five minutes and I’ll be right there. Stay on the phone with me, alright? Fuck the police, they can try to pull me over if they want, but I’m not stopping until I get there, you hear me?” 

Marinette breathed in a shuddering sigh before nodding into the phone, forgetting for a moment that Alya couldn’t see her. 

“Mari?” Alya was slightly frantic. 

“I’m here.”

“Okay, you gotta stay with me here, okay? I’m almost there. Like three minutes out. I’m breaking some laws but I don’t really give a shit. Are you okay?”

She shook her head. “Just get here, please.” Tikki worried over her. 

By the time Alya was breaking into the apartment, Marinette was curled up on the couch, tears calmly slipping down her cheeks and soaking into the couch beneath her. There was a large stain forming. Her entire body shook, and her breaths had yet to calm, still shattering from her lungs. The pressure of her knees at her chest helped only slightly, but she felt her mouth drying, her entire body tired and sore. The wounds on her back and her hands weren’t covered, and her back was barely scabbed over. Her hands only slightly healed with Tikki’s magic. 

“Girly I’m here, where you at?” Tikki fled as Alya barged into the apartment, coming around the couch before she found Marinette. “Girl,” she breathed. “Hey.” Her voice took on a small, almost timid voice, like she was speaking to a frightened animal. Maybe she was. 

Seeing her friend before her made the tears come harder. Her body wracked with a sob, and Alya rushed over to her, sitting at her feet and pulling her body up to her. Marinette’s head rested in Alya’s cleavage, and she would have laughed if it weren’t for the situation. They found themselves rocking gently, a soft tune humming from Alya’s lips. 

“Marinette. What happened?”

I was nearly killed while fighting one of the most powerful akuma I’ve ever come up against, only surviving through the assistance of a mysterious hacker who took the form of a black cat on the jumbo jet of an arena that was the location of my greatest failure as a superhero. Did I mention I was a superhero? Do you want to see the scars? What about the emotional ones? There’s plenty of those!

“I just -” What was there to say? Nothing that she could make come from her lips would make any sense any way she put it. And there was no way she was letting slip that she was Ladybug, even if there was no way Alya would ever tell her secret. She couldn't take that chance. If someone was listening, if she had a weak moment. No. Marinette had a weight to bare. It was the weight of the city, and every life in it, but it was hers alone. Alya didn’t deserve it. “I miss dad.”

It was a better explanation than the superhero thing. And it wasn’t even a lie to begin with. She _did_ miss her dad. Every day. Today would be no exception. 

“Oh, girly. I know.” Alya hugger her closer to her chest, and the affection let loose a new wave of tears. They volleyed down her cheeks and made everything beneath her soaked and cold. 

In all honesty, she hadn’t even thought about her father too hard for a long time. It was too painful. But now, with everything that had happened that day, with almost dying, coming so close to losing another part of herself, that it was time to properly mourn. 

“Alya, I miss him so much.” Desperate hands clung to anything they could reach, hoping to grasp something that could steady the roiling waves of grief that washed over her. For the first time in a long time - for the first time since her father had died - she really let herself cry in the safety of her best friend’s arms. 

Marinette had just moved out of her parent’s house, and it had been a huge expense to the family, but she was gaining her independence. She had a job, she had a new life she was starting, so it was worth it. She had been in school for a year, she had a stable boyfriend, she had a good job, even though she was new to it and was still going through training. Working as an intern at a magazine wasn’t really what she had imagined doing with her early life, but there was a fashion section of the magazine that she could help research. She would be available for photo shoots and learn some ropes to what would be helpful for her future career. She was growing. 

The akuma attack had been the biggest in history. The akuma had the ability to summon earthquakes, at varying magnitudes. The whole of the city shook, buildings crumbled, power lines fell, and fires were started. Every police officer, fireman, paramedic, doctor, and nurse was called in to help with the biggest catastrophe the city had seen. 

There wasn’t much death, luckily. Sundays were slow and businesses were closed and emptied, especially where the main attacks hit. The death toll was only in the single digits. Ladybug had saved the city again. She had come in at the last second, not having time to plan ahead, to think, to evaluate, and had smashed the akumatized item. But not before the akuma was able to blast out several of its more powerful quakes that shook blocks in every direction. 

It was in those last seconds of battle that the powerline snapped in half, hitting a car that was driving to pick up a young woman in uni to make sure she was safe. 

Marinette always told her parents to stay indoors when there were attacks. They had always been good about it. But Tom was delivering a package across town, and he wanted to get home to his wife as soon as possible; even better, he wanted to stop by to see his daughter at her apartment to make sure she was okay. Her apartment was on the way, only a couple of minutes away from his home. He should have been fine. 

But akumas were unpredictable. Their attacks even moreso. 

Ladybug has never been able to save everyone. But the deaths of those eight people, of her father, weighed down on her every day of her life. There were eight people who didn’t have to die, whose lives she could have saved, but they were dead now. 

The city viewed her as a public hero. With an akuma attack like that, hundreds could have been killed. 

But Ladybug knew better. If she hadn’t gotten ahead of herself, no one would have had to die. 

Marinette sobbed in Alya’s arms, remembering when she got the news that her father was dead. They had been in the hospital for all of thirty minutes, the hallways crowded with running people. Those pulled out of buildings turned to rubble, those who had limbs crushed and amputated, those other seven families who had lost someone. 

When the doctor came out, he had a splash of blood on his sleeve that he hadn’t noticed. Marinette was on hyper drive, her mind still in Ladybug mode, so she noticed everything. The sheen of sweat on his brow, the rumpled lapel of his doctor jacket, the way his nametag swayed when he walked. His lips moving, spelling out the words that Marinette didn’t believe would ever have to be said to her. Because obviously, it wasn’t true. 

Her mother began wailing as soon as she heard the news, but Marinette didn’t believe it. Her father wasn’t dead, because he couldn't be. She was Ladybug and she had saved everyone. She didn’t know yet that seven other families were hearing the same news. Right now, her world stopped. 

It didn’t sink in when they identified his body. It didn’t sink in when they were at his funeral. She didn’t cry when she got home that night. She slipped by in the numb embrace of denial, and she stayed there for months. 

She lost her job, her boyfriend couldn't keep taking care of her, and her heater broke. 

Tears didn’t come until that night, when she finally thought about the weight of the pain in her gut, that had been with her for years. She hadn’t gone to see her mother in how long to barricade herself from the grief that she had to face. Seeing her mother would only make it worse, right? That sympathetic grin, the kind eyes, the sweet hug would only make her have to face the emotions that didn’t really exist, or have to exist, because her father wasn’t really dead. 

But then, when she was crying with Alya alone in her apartment, she allowed herself to be sad, to be weak, to be comforted, just for a moment. Because she needed it. Because she was Ladybug, and she was strong, powerful, kind, and a hero. But she was also Marinette. And she needed a break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added that last section to keep the whole thing consistent with my outline. So... happy Tuesday! I hope none of y'all are having as bad a day as Marinette is! Because she had a pretty bad day. 
> 
> (I can't say that there's happy stuff to come (because that would be a lie) but there is more Love Square stuff! Yay!!)
> 
>  
> 
> sorry for the angst


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marinette has boy troubles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She is very not good with men. She has troubles. Poor child.
> 
> Also: 2500 hits????? That's crazy! I love you guys omg!
> 
> EDIT!: I forgot to add a blood warning. So: blood warning.

Mewing on her balcony woke her up. 

It wasn’t the best of mornings for Marinette. While the day before, she had some great morning sex with Nino, now she was curled in the fetal position while being spooned by Alya because she’d had a major freak out the night before. I mean, the turn of events is kind of spectacular, is it not? 

Marinette rolled out of bed, her body sore from wounds she had not even began to survey. They weren’t bleeding, though, so there’s that. 

The morning was cold and grey when she opened the sliding door to her balcony. A burst of frigid bitch air hit her bare legs and arms, raising goosebumps wherever it passed. She shivered and wanted to go back inside, but the noise persisted to her left, and she turned to look with tired eyes. Nothing but a pile of crunchy leaves were on her porch. She had been meaning to put some potted plants and a chair or two out there to make a cute sitting area, but it was winter and fuck that. 

Just about to go back inside and abandon her query, a shift and sound caught her attention. There was a tree growing between her and her neighbor’s balconies to keep some sort of privacy in their lives. Mostly, it just made Marinette’s porch more shaded than she would like it, and with more leaves to clean up than she ever wanted to. 

Bracing herself against the cold air, she walked out onto the porch and leaned over the edge to look down at the tree. One of the branches grew directly into a vent in the building, creating a bridge from the apartments to the outside world. And management wondered why rats were so frequent. Maybe hiring an exterminator would actually do some good?

She shook her head and decided she would tell her landlord about it so rats would be less of a problem. But it didn’t look like it was rats that were rustling the leaves. Marinette watched as a tiny form crept along the branch, its legs shaking and eyes barely opening. 

The little kitten was walking away from the vent, probably where its mom had just given birth to it in a warm space, but it was about to fall, and she was not about to have a tiny baby kitten life on her conscious. 

Worry overtook her and she laid down on the cold ground to reach over the edge of her porch. Her heart beat with a rush of panic and urgency. The branch was maybe a foot and a half away from her, but she didn’t have a good reading about how far her arm would be able to reach. She felt for the branch until her fingertips brushed a leaf, seeing it move only slightly from her angle. She huffed when she realized she wouldn’t be able to reach all the way. 

Changing positions, she laid parallel to the branch, bringing her shoulder completely under the cold metal railing of her porch and searching blindly with her fingers for the soft fur of a kitten. It mewled quietly beneath her, much softer than it had before. Fingers felt hard bark beneath her, and she almost sighed with relief, but kept searching. Moving up and down to branch, she felt the tiny kitten jump as her fingers brushed against its tail. Quickly but deftly, she wrapped her hand around the miniscule body of the kitten, pulling it up from the branch and toward the porch where she waited. 

It was a painful process extracting her arm from beneath the railing, but the managed somehow, and pulled the dappled black and brown kitten into her lap, stroking at its head as it meowed angrily. The sound was a mixture between a purr and a growl, cut off with a sneezing clap, sounding like it was yelling “plaque” at her. 

“Oh, I know. It’s cold out here, isn’t it? Let’s get you inside.” 

Alya was still sleeping soundly, as she would be until Marinette set an alarm on her phone to wake her. The girl would not wake for anything except her alarm. Marinette had tried everything. Pots and pans, screamo music, a trumpet, and cold water. Nothing. 

Deciding she would need help sooner rather than later, Marinette set an alarm for two minutes from now. It would give her enough time to get the little kitten something to eat from her kitchen. 

Upon further inspection of her kitchen, it looked like they would have to find food elsewhere. 

She plopped the kitten on the kitchen counter while she looked through some cupboards and the fridge, but came up with nothing. The internet held nothing for her, either, saying that a baby kitten needed formula. 

“Oh, you’re going to be a pain, aren’t you?” Marinette asked the baby cat that was waddling around her counter. 

“Who are you talking to?” Alya called across the apartment as she muted her alarm and woke. She got up unnaturally quickly. Where it took Marinette a good half hour to get out of bed, Alya woke up and she was ready to go. These were the reasons that they would not be a team during the zombie apocalypse. Marinette would get bitten first, and Alya couldn't bare having to kill her best friend. 

“A kitten I found outside.” 

“What?” Alya hurried around the door and found the tiny thing on the counter. “What the fuck is that?”

“A kitten I found outside.”

“Why is it in here?”

“Because I found it outside. It was gonna die.”

“How do you know that?”

“It was in a tree.”

“And?”

“It’s a baby, Alya.”

“So we have to take care of it now?”

“Yup.” 

“Fuuu-” she muttered profanities under her breath while she looked for a pet supply store that would be open and close on her phone. “I hate this.”

“Too bad.”

“I hate cats.”

“Get over it.” 

“Uuugh. Marinette, do we have to?” 

“You don’t have to. But I’m not putting this kitten back out into the cold winter to be abandoned by its mother or to fall out of a tree and to its death. This kitten is not going to be scavenger food. Besides, it’s cute and I like cats.” Alya surveyed Marinette over her phone, checking if she was really serious or not. Mari nodded surely. 

“I want you to know that I hate this. And there’s a pet supply store a couple blocks away. Do you want me to stay or-?”

“No, you can go ahead and get the stuff. You don’t have to hang with the cute little thing who will soon become a happy part of our family.” It squirmed in her hands when Marinette picked it up and shoved it in Alya’s face, showing her just how cute the little thing was. Its eyes were still closed, just barely beginning to open, but it was vocal enough for three. 

“I will barf on it.” 

“You’ll have to clean it up.”

“I’m leaving.” Alya shoved her shoes on her feet and wrapped her jacket around her shoulders on the way out, nearly forgetting her purse on the coat rack. 

“Put me on the phone with whoever helps you at the store!” Marinette called after her. She heard a grunt of affirmation, but not much else. For someone who woke so easily, she was one of the grumpier morning people that she had ever met. Maybe the two were correlated somehow. 

Ten minutes later, Alya called and Marinette spoke with the person at the pet store, explaining where she found the kitten, what she needed to get, and all the would have to do for the kitten. It would be a rigorous couple of weeks, but Marinette liked the idea of caring for something so small and helpless, watching it grow. 

Once she got all the necessities, she asked Alya to get some toys and a bed for it, too. It would need somewhere to sleep, and maybe a cat tree once it got big enough. She would love to get some of those catnip pouches, but those weren’t good for the cats when they were younger. Some cute bowls for food and water would be nice, but she heard that they shouldn’t be put close together, something about cats contaminating their water with the food or something. Either way, she wanted the best for this little kitten, even if she just found it. 

The girls took the rest of the day feeding, washing, drying, feeding, playing with, pottying, feeding, and finally petting the kitten to sleep on its new bed, complete with its very own electric heating pad to keep it warm on cold nights. They figured out, through extensive online diagrams, that it was a boy, and had been thinking of names the whole time they spent with it. 

Alya and Marinette sat watching him sleep soundly on the bed, his tiny body taking up a fraction of the space available. He purred cutely. His eyes had been urging themselves open throughout the day, but it had been very active all day, with medicines and baths and a lot of care to keep him healthy, and it was time for a nap. 

The sun had made it all the way to its apex, and the clouds were letting it shine through, making a slice of sunlight brighten the apartment. It was still freezing outside, but it was nice to imagine it warming up slightly. 

“What are we gonna name it?” Alya asked. She had come around the group thinking, as Marinette had suspected she would. It wasn’t like her to drop a project like this, no matter if she liked cats or not. Mari was determined to get her to like cats by the end of it, though. 

“No idea.”

“Yes you do.”

“Yeah, but you’ll laugh at me.”

“Probably. But that’s never stopped you before.”

Marinette sighed and contested. “So you know how he purrs really cutely.” Alya nodded reluctantly. “And it sounds like he’s saying something, right? So I was thinking that he was trying to tell us his name.”

“That’s dumb.”

“I know, but you love it.”

“Yes. Continue.” Alya leaned back on the couch and closed her eyes. A strip of light fell across her cheeks, warming them. 

“So, to me, it sounds like he’s saying plaque.”

One of Alya’s eyes propped itself open to look at Marinette like she said something horrendous. “Like the stuff on your teeth?”

“No, gross. Like a plaque. That you get your name on when you win a prize or whatever.”

Alya whipped out her phone and began searching something. “I think the plaque _is_ the prize.”

“Whatever.”

“‘A sticky deposit on teeth in which bacteria proliferate,’” Alya read from her phone. “You really wanna name your ‘adorable’ little kitten after bacteria jizz?”

“You are so gross.”

“Whatever.”

“Fine. Fuck. Not Plaque. It’s a cute name though.” Alya gritted her teeth and shrugged in a ‘not really’ sort of gesture. “Fine.”

They sat in silence for a while, Alya playing on her phone before locking it and throwing it down beside her. She leaned her head back again and rested in the sun, breathing steadily. Marinette watched her, and enough time passed that she was sure she had fallen asleep in the sun. When she spoke, it startled her.

“And besides, it doesn’t even sound like ‘plaque.’ It’s softer. More like… I don’t know. Plagg.” 

Marinette thought for a minute. “Plagg. I like that.” 

“That’s because you love me.”

“I mean… sure?” Alya smacked her arm and Marinette laughed, falling backwards onto the couch and laying her feet across Alya’s lap. The two sighed and watched the faint flickering of the light coming in through the window, distorted by the waving of the tree branches. It was a beautiful day, and it was easy for them to be lulled into soft, contented sleep. 

\-----

Marinette spent Monday waiting anxiously by her phone. All through lectures and study sessions with friends and classmates, through lunch with Adrien trying to finalize their designs for the Jagged Stone project that was due that Friday, through ballroom and standing way too close to Adrien for comfort, Marinette kept an eye on her phone, waiting for it to light up and give her some news. 

“What are you looking at?”

“Huh?” Adrien’s voice brought her head up and away from the screen of her phone for the first time in over a minute. While walking, Adrien had to direct her - and sometimes pull her - out of the way of oncoming people and poles so distracted she was. She kept making up excuses to look at her screen, and finally lapsed into playing games and searching social media to distract herself while still having a finger on what had become her lifeline. 

“You haven’t been able to keep your eyes off of your phone since we left class.” Walking to the parking lot after their last class of the day had become ritual. Marinette was concerned that he was walking in the opposite direction of where he needed to be, but he said he didn’t mind. And besides, any time away from the Gorilla - his affectionate name for his driver/bodyguard - was welcome. Marinette had only laid eyes on the Gorilla once when they had been driving away from the paparazzi-littered cafe they had been working at, and she had to admit, the name suits. 

She couldn't say that she minded the extra time with him. 

“Oh, I’m waiting for a call,” she said absently, turning back to her phone. 

“From?”

“What?”

“Who are you waiting to hear from?” She didn’t respond, and he guided her by the elbow away from walking directly into traffic. “Estranged father? Secret family? A suitor, perhaps?”

Marinette only caught the last bit and looked up at him with disgruntled ambivalence. “Sure,” she scoffed. “I have a line of eligible gentlemen just waiting to get a crack at me.”

He nudged her shoulder as they walked. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

She had to stop for a minute. It took a second for him to realize that they had stopped, but he eventually found her absent from his side and turned around to meet her. “Have you met me?”

“Yeah, I think so?” He hadn’t quite caught up to the turn in the conversation yet. 

“The last time I had anyone interested in me was three years ago and I scared him from my life. There’s no one that’s gonna come near me with all my baggage. It trips anyone who wants to get close.” So distracted by her phone she was, she didn’t notice that he stepped closer, almost as if they were back in ballroom. But they were in public now, and their dance clothes had been put away. His chest hit the edge of her phone, scraping along her knuckles, and she looked upward. 

Damn, he was so tall. And he had to stand directly in front of the sun, which was breaking from the clouds just for this moment to bathe him in heavenly light and make him look like the physical manifestation of Apollo. 

“I’m pretty close.” 

Obviously, he did not understand the flirtatious tone of his voice, or maybe he did, but he absolutely had no idea what it did to her insides. For a moment, she completely forgot about what was happening on her phone and looked at him, where he was standing so close, but never - _ever_ \- close enough. A burst of giggles started in her belly, and built with lightness and heat, traveling through her limbs, making her knees weak, her lips tingle, and her heart beat faster. 

It was totally within the range of possibility for her to reach up and kiss him. He was tall, but he wasn’t that tall. She could stretch. Just make it. He would have to lean down a little, maybe, but in the world that Marinette was creating in her mind, he would lean down to her wherever she was just to kiss her. Because they were made for each other, right? Alya certainly seemed to think so. 

“Yeah,” she said breathily. 

There were times in Marinette’s life when she wished she weren’t so defensive. Her gut instincts were to fight back, with a quip, with wit, with some smart ass comment that was meant to get the other person to stop talking. And with her brain not working, unable to form a coherent thought besides “I want to kiss you and lick you and bite you and fuck you and do unspeakable things to you,” all she could come up with was: 

“That’s because you’re not trying to get into my pants.”

Because that was the best thing to say in that situation!

Adrien threw back his head to laugh, effectively breaking the moment. 

So he wasn’t flirting, Marinette thought. It was confusing. He was standing way too close for that to be any normal sort of conversation. Was he trying to come on to her? Was he trying to be friendly? Was he really just _that_ clueless as to what it mean to be so close to someone who so clearly had a gigantic crush on him?

Her head spun along with her pulse. 

He was still standing pretty close, but her phone buzzed, so she was the first to step away. She would have loved to step closer, but that’s not really a social norm at this point to climb on top of someone who was just flirting with you in a totally platonic, not at all romantic way. God, she wished it was, though. 

Heart spiking for a different reason, Marinette bore down on her phone, clicking it open, only to be met with disappointment. Alya had texted her to hurry up and get to the car. There was a warm current to the air, but it was still January, and it was still pretty much freezing. 

The pair started walking, Marinette deciding to take an extra precaution and stay a few extra inches away from Adrien, just in case she got the impulse to climb. 

“But what were you actually waiting for on your phone?” Adrien asked as they walked. 

“Oh, um. I applied for this job - it’s an internship thing, it’s kind of lame - at this fashion company, so I thought that it would be kinda cool, anyway, I’m expecting a call to get ready for - or to set up, actually - an interview, so that I can get interviewed. For the internship.” 

Articulate. 

“I see.”

“Do you?” She buried her shame by staring deeply into her phone. They had reached the parking lot where Alya was waiting, idling impatiently, though she was always impatient so Marinette didn’t really mind. “Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She waved goodbye and ducked into the car befor he could respond.

Alya could see the physical awkwardness radiating off of her. “Damn, girl.”

“Shhhh…” Marinette ran her hand over Aya’s face to silence her. “Not today, Satan.”

Alya scoffed and they drove back home. 

Marinette spent the evening fixating over the final details of the project. It wasn’t even due for another couple of days, but she wanted to make sure every line, color, and highlight was perfect. Nothing less for Jagged Stone. 

When the process became tedious, she took spare pieces of fabric and created a tiny sweater for Plagg. She mainly used the rich green fabric she had plenty of leftover from for that cape thing she had been working on. The green matched his eyes perfectly, though his own were spotted with dots of brown and black, obscuring the purity. 

His patchy blackish grey coat had become shinier after a couple of baths, and he had been taking advantage of the many feedings he required, often eating seconds and thirds. Marinette probably spoiled him, but he didn’t seem to mind. He needed the nutrition at any rate. 

She secured the sweater around his little body, and crafted four shoes, just because she could. He hated them, but they were cute, so she kept them on, taking as many pictures as she could before he flicked, chewed, or clawed them off. 

“Alright, Plagg. I gotta go to the store. You wanna come with me or stay here?” 

He meowed his name. 

“Great, let’s go.” Marinette went about putting on all of her layers to brave the cold outside. The snows had passed, but the weather was never on her side. As she struggled to pull on a boot, she watched Plagg crawl under the couch, probably chasing after a dust bunny. She really needed to clean. 

“Come on, buddy.” Tikki flew into the pocket hidden in her scarf and settled in. Plagg was stuck under the chair. “Come on, seriously, dude? Tikki, gimme a second.” 

While Tikki hovered in place, watching, Marinette bent down to look under the couch and reach for the lump of green and black that was the newest member of her family. A couple of fingers wrapped around him and pulled, but he resisted. “Plagg!” She scolded, and he released. 

“He’s quite the handful,” Tikki commented as Marinette righted herself. 

“He’s lucky he’s cute.” The girls giggled with each other and set out. Plagg and Tikki shared the space in the scarf, while Plagg kept his head poking out to watch the world go by. Tikki allowed herself to peak out as well, strangely comforted by the presence of the feline. 

The walk to the store was long, but Marinette needed more first aid supplies, and she didn’t want to pull out her bike until the rainy season had passed. The air conditioning of the store was a literal warm welcome as they stepped from the frigid outside air. Marinette headed straight for the aisle she knew contained the supplies she needed, having been there so many times before. The clerks at the store must think she was a professional street fighter or something for all the times she bought first aid kits, gauze, and various antibacterial ointments to fight the potential gangrene she wasn’t positive didn’t exist on the claws of some of her akuma foes. 

Standing in the aisle, Marinette came to the bitter realization that they had moved things. Going to reach for her go-tos, she didn’t find them there. She spun on her heal, looking around her, glad no one else in the store was watching her make a fool of herself in the middle of aisle seven. 

“Tikki,” she whispered, unable to see anything of use on her own. “Do you see any of the stuff we usually get?” 

A red orb popped out of Marinette’s scarf, a bright contrast to the white, but there was no one around the see. Her head was mostly obscured by Plagg’s anyway. They both searched diligently for a good three minutes and came up with only one of the three things they needed to find. 

“Damn,” Marinette conceded. 

“What’re you looking for?” A vaguely familiar voice startled her as it came up from behind. She made sure Tikki was completely covered by knit scarf before turning around to meet whoever spoke to her. 

Much to her surprise, Felix, Alya’s main prospect at the moment - dare she say boyfriend - was standing there, equally bundled up against the cold, nose red and running. 

“Felix!” Marinette said in greeting. “Alya told me you were sick. How’re you doing?” 

“Well, you know.” He shrugged. “I’m sick.”

Marinette took it as a joke, but he only nodded absently. Her smile slowly dripped off of her face before changing subjects. “I was looking for the things I usually get here, but everything has rearranged itself. I mean, the last time I came here was a month ago, but I feel like a lot has changed in that time.”

He shrugged. “The world is in flux. Many things are changing.”

Cryptic. Marinette narrowed her eyes and leaned away slightly. “Y’alright, dude?” 

He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand and sniffled. “I’m sick.”

“We covered that.” She shook her head and dismissed the behavior as that of someone who had had too much DayQuil, then went back to looking. “I don’t think we’re gonna find anything here,” she whispered to Tikki, and waved good bye to Felix. 

His eyes followed her creepily as she walked to the front, asking if they carried any of the items she was looking for, and remained tied to her as she finally found what she was looking for. When she checked out and left the store, she didn’t see him standing behind her anymore, but somehow that was creepier. Like a spider who you want to keep an eye on. 

Marinette began her long trek back home, fisting the shopping bag full of supplies she needed to not become an infected, pussey mess. 

“That was a strange encounter,” Marinette commented as they walked. 

“I’m not sure I like the feeling I get around him,” Tikki whispered from her pocket. She was curled up next to Plagg, who was taking a nap, but her eyes stared up at Marinette through the pocket opening. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You don’t feel that?” She shook her head. “It’s like an itch behind your antennae. I think it’s the human equivalent of a shiver down your spine. My dots feel like they’re twitching, and I’m not sure why.”

“You should get that checked out,” she quipped. 

“Marinette.”

“I’m sorry, but it’s fine, Tikki. I’m sure it is. He’s just off because he’s sick. I’ve looked into this guy extensively.” She had checked every social media feed the guy had, every family friend, everyone who was close to this guy in any way. Nobody that he followed was creepy, no one who followed him had any fetishes outside the usual. “He’s normal. More than normal. I wouldn’t let my best friend go out with a sociopathic serial murderer or someone who was boring or likes pickles too much. I trust him enough to let Alya deal with him. I’m sure he’s fine.”

“Alright,” Tikki conceded, but there remained concern in her voice. “Just keep an eye on him, please, Marinette. Just in case.”

She offered a smile down to her kwami. “I promise. Just in case.” After a few more steps she added, “And I’ll get Alya to share some secrets about him, too. Okay?”

Tikki seemed reassured. “Okay. That sounds good.” 

They arrived home without incident, but thanks to Tikki’s worried words, Marinette couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Followed. 

The business of dressing and cleaning wounds was a messy one. Marinette stripped naked and stood in the bathtub, her supplies scattered across the floor close enough to grab upon a moment’s notice. A trash can stood by. Two nurses with bags of blood and hollow needles. 

The healing that Tikki had managed on Marinette’s hands had almost completely closed up and sealed the wounds from the broken glass of Mirage. The shallow cuts weren’t too difficult to fuse, and they would heal in time on their own, and quite quickly, if Marinette’s propensity for easy healing - even without Tikki’s influence - had anything to do with it. 

Even as a kid, Marinette had popped back up from injuries faster than she should have. A cast for a broken bone that should have taken six weeks to completely heal was taken off at four or five. What doctors took as the elevated healing ability of the young had taken Marinette through to her teens, when a particularly bad spill down the stairs had her in a wheelchair for a month when it should have been two and a half. 

Perhaps it was sheer force of will. Marinette hated being sick, injured, or in any way helpless. Healing was the fastest way to get rid of the feelings of weakness and to get back to doing whatever it was she needed to do. 

She went about cleaning her back, a mirror set up in front and behind her to be able to see everything she was doing, starting by taking off the original bandages. They had dark splotches of reddish brown where the scabs broke open with a strange movement of her back and bled. The long cuts from Siren were almost completely healed now. Two more days and she wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. 

More recent and various were the injuries from Mirage. Clean cuts through her skin made by razor sharp shards of glass. She was lucky they were so thin; the wounds Siren left would leave jagged, uneven scars that probably wouldn’t leave her body for the next ten years or more. 

She thought that plastic surgery might be a decent way to get rid of some of the more puckered, gross looking scars she had accumulated over the years, but there would always be more to come, and it was too expensive. 

There’s always a catch. 

As she reached back to clean off some dried blood from a scab on her back, the wound on her arm decided to break open. She cursed the pain and the sudden fountain of blood that ran down to her fingers. Quickly finishing the job on her back, including large gauze bandages with tape around all sides, she turned to the now gaping thing on her arm. 

Gross, she thought, peering down at it, waiting for the coagulates in her blood to kick in with a little help from a stained towel she had at the ready. It took twenty minutes for the large slice to stop bleeding completely, and even then, with every movement it threatened more. 

Adhesive stitches had become her best friend over the years, and she made use of almost an entire pack of them on one arm. After cleaning extensively, she began the stitching process, and then wrapping, when a knock came to the door. 

“Ah, fuck,” she muttered to herself, looking at the blood that surrounded her. It dripped down her legs and had stained her clothes irreparably. Not that the clothes minded; after having been used for this same purpose so many times, they were more red than their original color. 

“Marinette,” Tikki said, hovering near the plush black robe that Marinette favored above all else in her bathroom. Struggling to stand in the slippery bathtub, she managed to get in the robe with the help of Tikki, and scooted on a towel to the door to prevent the blood on her feet from staining the floor as another knock came. 

“Coming!” she called, dragging the towel along with her. Tikki waited for her at the door, where he usually watched the conversations from the peep hole. 

“It’s Adrien,” Tikki whispered to her. 

Marinette cinched her brows. “Really?” she whispered back, and shrugged. With one last check to her devastating appearance, she opened the door, feigning surprise. “Adrien! What’re you doing here?” She leaned on the door hinge, not allowing access or even a view into the apartment that had not been cleaned in far too long for company. Especially _this_ company. 

He held up an article of black clothing. “I think this is yours. I found it in my dance bag.”

“Yeah, that’s mine. Sorry, I don’t know how it would get-” she reached up with her injured arm to get the item, and she could feel the bleeding start again. By now she was numb to the pain, but the twinge didn’t stop her from wincing. 

“You okay?” Adrien asked as she hid the arm behind her back and reached with the other arm. 

“Yeah,” she said, looking for an excuse literally anywhere. “A bad workout. I pulled a muscle and can’t really move it that well.” He didn’t need to know that the only exercise she got was fighting akuma and vigorous sex. I mean, he could definitely learn about the second thing, but that first one is where Marinette got stumped. Her mind fogged over with bad thoughts. 

Whatever happened to just being friends? She was supposed to be completely uninterested! Right?

_Right?!_

“Thanks,” she told him, leaning on the door so it closed to cover the severe bleeding that was happening behind it. Tikki was assisting as much as possible, holding a washcloth - the only thing she was able to grab - to the cut and pressing as hard as her tiny weight could. It barely felt like anything, but it was what was needed. 

“Anytime.” 

They both stood there a little awkwardly. Looking anywhere but at the other person’s eyes made for a very long, very tension filled silence. 

“I would invite you in but I just got out of the shower,” Marinette conceded, trying to break the tension. It didn’t really work. At the idea of a shower, she imagined having them together, getting fit with the aforementioned exercise. 

“Oh, yeah.” 

“Yeah.” 

“I can-” he pointed behind him, suggesting leaving. 

“Yeah, sorry.”

“No, it’s-”

“I just gotta-”

“Okay.”

She slammed the door before it could get any more awkward. It managed, though, because the camisole got caught in the door. 

With a groan, she tugged at it twice, and thought about just leaving it there, but Adrien spoke through the door. 

“I think the shirt is stuck.”

“Yeah, i-” she opened the door. “-got it.” One last blush for the road, she thought, and closed the door again, the cami safely out of reach of the door’s jaw. 

Back in the bathroom, she was reminded of the bloody mess. “Those stitches really aren’t the best, are they?” 

Tikki examined her arm. “They usually do the job, but this looks pretty serious. Maybe we should get someone to look at it, Marinette.” 

“No, Tikki. You know we can’t. What will I say?”

“It’s not a gunshot. You don’t have to report it. Say you fell on a knife or something.”

Marinette sighed. “Alright. I’m clumsy, but I’m not that clumsy.”

“This is your health we’re talking about here, Marinette. This is Ladybug. You’re one and the same. You need to take care of yourself so that she can be at her best. With the akuma becoming stronger like they are, we need to take extra care. You can’t have these major injuries every time you go out to fight.”

The bleeding had finally been staunched, and Marinette went about stitching the cut closed with extra adhesive strips. “It’s not like Hawkmoth is giving me much of a choice. The akuma just keep coming. And with the claws they’ve had recently, I don’t know what I can do to keep myself from being injured. Being in the fray is the only way that I can keep others safe.”

“But you have to stay safe, too, Marinette.” It was more of a scolding than caring, concerned words that Tikki usually offered. 

She grunted and began wrapping her arm tightly, trying to staunch any future issues where they came, and then went about cleaning the blood stained bathroom. The bath ran red, pink, and finally clear. All dirty, stained, or otherwise soiled towels were tossed directly into the washing machine, along with Marinette’s clothes and the now soiled bathrobe she wore. 

As she was walking back across the apartment, naked, she heard keys jingling at the door. In a split second reaction, she looked from the bedroom, four meters away, to the kitchen, two meters, and decided to go for it. Tikki ushered her towards the open bedroom door. Booking it as fast as possible, the front door still opened as she was half way there. 

“Alya, close the door!” Marinette yelled as it swung wide open. 

“Marinette, why are you naked!?” 

“Oh, shit, she’s naked,” she heard male voices say. 

“Why are there boys in my apartment?” Marinette screamed back, through the blessedly closed door. She began throwing on clothes as quickly as possible so as not to disrupt her injuries. 

“We’re going out. Didn’t you get my text?”

“Well, obviously not.” Pulling on pants was the last touch, but skinny jeans were impossible, so she had to flop onto the bed to get them on. She pulled on a sweatshirt in defiance.

Nino, Adrien, Felix, and Alya stood around her living room. Well, the boys stood. Alya was comfortably draped across one of the chairs, her feet hanging over one arm. 

“I didn’t see anything,” Adrien sputtered and avoided eye contact. 

“Dude, don’t lie, that’s rude.” Nino smacked his shoulder. “We all saw your butt.”

“It’s a nice butt,” Alya interjected. 

“Very nice.” Nino gave her a wink and Marinette wanted to physically disapparate into nothingness. 

“Thanks. Why are you-”

“Wait, what?” Adrien looked between Nino’s wink and Marinette’s blush, connecting dots. She was hoping he would be as clueless about this as he was about his flirting. “Did you-!?” apparently not. 

“Yeah, dude,” Alya kicked Adrien’s arm. “Where have you been?” 

“It’s not like it’s a thing,” Marinette said defensively. 

Nino shrugged. “I mean-”

“It was a thing that is no longer a thing.” Marinette’s eyes were dangerous, but Alya and Nino were enjoying watching Adrien and Marinette squirm. The two eyed each other and smiled as they watched their friends grow progressively more uncomfortable. They were sadists, but Marinette had a strange feeling about those two, like they needed to be alone together for a little while to connect. 

But Alya had a boyfriend who wasn’t really a boyfriend - yet - and Marinette was supportive and loving of it, even if Sick Felix was creepy. Either way, this was not the time to play match maker. IT was time to stave off embarrassment. 

“Well?” 

“Well?” Alya shot back. “You’re not wearing that, are you?” 

“I’m not going out.” 

“What? Of course you are.” 

“It’s Monday night and I still haven’t heard from that internship yet.” Marinette sat squarely in the middle of the coffee table, obstinate to the last. 

“Mari, come on-” 

Plagg jumped up onto the seat Alya was lounging in and settled into her lap. 

“You have a cat?” Nino asked. 

“Yup.”

“Since when?”

Marinette was getting more and more frustrated. “Since yesterday. Look, can you guys just go? I’m really tired, I have a lot of things that I have to work on, and I’ll just bring you guys down if I come with you.” 

“Impossible,” Alya snarked. “Girl. You haven’t been out in a while. You need a distraction.”

Her shake of the head was final. “If you’re talking about Saturday, it’s handled, and it’s done. I’m fine.” Her voice took on a gentler tone then, trying to ease any concerns. “I promise.” 

The girls met eyes for a long time, a silent conversation going on between them. The boys in the room could sense the tension and watched them, flicking eyes between each girl and gauging reactions. They had no idea what was going on, of course, but it was kind of them to try. 

Alya was forever concerned that Marinette needed to be watched over and cared for, but Marinette insisted that she was fine. She could take care of herself and would call if she needed anything. Alya reminded her that she would always be there for her, and a squinched nose to the cat in her lap said ‘despite this thing being here.’ Marinette smiled and thanked Alya for her understanding, and both stood up and hugged. 

“Okay, what the fuck just happened?” Nino commented. 

“We’re leaving. Come on, guys.” Alya was the first one out, and Marinette pushed everyone else out of the apartment, watching them walk down the stairs and exit the building. Alya waved back to her at the top, and Marinette blew a kiss. 

“I’ll be fine,” she called. 

Alya shook her head and left, giving her a text several seconds later with a couple hundred heart emojis. Finally alone, Marinette went to do nothing and enjoy it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marinette gets a little upset.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I posting a chapter a week early? Yes I am, it's a Double Update! They only happen once every 5000 years, so savor it.

Marinette heard about her internship on Tuesday. Nearly sprinting out of class, her heart pounded out of her chest as she picked up the phone from an unrecognized number, answering and enunciating the practiced “This is Marinette Cheng.” It took a second for the other line to register her words. 

“Ms. Cheng. We are calling in regards to the position you applied for as an intern and assistant to Mrs. Durand.”

“Yes?” She could feel the palpitations, every beat hitting her rib cage and most likely leaving a sizeable bruise. 

“Unfortunately, we have filled this posi-” 

Marinette’s heart dropped to her feet and she could no longer hear the words that were being said. The position was filled. Not by her, but by somebody else. They were going in a different direction, without her. She would not be needed. Don’t bother coming in. We’re sorry. 

Words that didn’t belong to the speaker on the other end of the line flooded through her head, and the crushing feeling of inadequacy rushed through her. She wasn’t a good candidate for an internship at a minor-league fashion company. Not even an assistant role. Apparently, she wasn’t good enough to go for coffee runs or organize a schedule. 

“Ms. Cheng?”

It was harder than she would have liked to pull herself out of the fog of her thoughts. “Yes, I’m here. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that?”

“Absolutely.” The caller wet on to repeat the message that Marinette had missed. “After reviewing your application and your - impressive - recommendations, Ms. Roux, General Director and Chief Editor has expressed interest in having you as her private assistant. If you are available for an interview within the next week, we should have you processed and able to provide work by this coming Monday.”

The entire world seemed to be crumbling and reshaping itself around Marinette. Not five seconds ago she had not even the barest chances of getting a job, and now she was - what? - basically guaranteed? General director, she thought. So basically, the motherfucking head of the whole operation wanted her as an assistant? A personal assistant? Out of a pool of how many applicants?

“Ms. Cheng?”

“Um, yes!” Her mouth was suddenly able to work again, and she was elated. “Yes, I am absolutely available for an interview. Any time, really. I am always available, thank you so much for thi- Thank you. This means so much to me, and thank Ms. Roux, too, I mean. Yeah. Um, an interview. Yeah, what time should I come in?”

The girl on the other end suppressed a giggle before going through the scheduling options that Marinette could choose from. Every appointment time had some sort of conflict with her schedule, she would miss one class or another with any option, but she wasn’t about to tell them that. Skipping lectures wasn’t the problem. Having to make up the work was. School was important to her, and it always had been, but this was an amazing opportunity, one that she had no idea would be coming any time soon. She had to take the leap. 

They set up an appointment for the following day, for a half hour between one thirty and two. It was immediately before Marinette had to be in ballroom class, but she could be late. She would happily be late. Being late was the greatest thing that would happen to her all week. 

She stumbled over her words as she got off the phone with the receptionist and thanked her profusely. 

As soon as she hung up, she was dialing Alya’s number. 

Never mind that she had things to learn in the next room, she could barely express her excitement as she told her best friend the news. She was sure Leroy would understand her squealing in the hallway. Maybe she wouldn't. Did she really care? Alya was equally excited, chirping along about how she absolutely knew that Marinette would get a break soon enough, and that she deserved it and was proud of her. Marinette had to quell the happy tears that threatened to break over her water line. 

“I love you,” she told the phone, and Alya made a kissy noise back. She hung up right as her class got out. 

Adrien walked up to her with her bag in his hand, and she took it thankfully. 

“What’s all the smiles about?” they walked along together to go and get lunch in between classes, their shoulders bumping occasionally in the crowded hallway. 

“I got a job interview.” Adrien’s interest piqued and he smiled down at her. “A really good one, too. Apparently my recommendations were _impressive_. I didn’t think that Leroy was really that impressive, but she must have written something that they really liked. I didn’t really like the letter all too much, but it’s what I had to go with, so I gave it to them. But either way I have a job interview, and ohmygodIhavenothingtowear.” 

Stopping in her tracks did not make her the most popular person in the busy halls, but she did it anyway. Adrien stopped along with her, moving to stand directly in front of her to minimize their space. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I have _nothing to wear._ ” She articulated very carefully for effect. “I mean, it’s an interview at a fashion company. I’m going to be speaking with the _editor_ of a _fashion company_ and I have to look good. I have to look better than good. Adrien, I have to look flawless or I’m not gonna get the job. There’s no way.”

“I’m sure they don’t care what you’re wearing.”

“It’s a fashion company, Adrien. If anyone were going to judge me for what I’m wearing, it’s going to be them.” She sat and stewed for a moment, chewing at her thumbnail nervously. Her mind was racing through hundreds of thoughts. How would she be able to get something suitable? Could she mix this thing with this other thing to make it look good, or was the color choice to risky? Did she have time to make something? It would certainly be impressive and she could show that she could make things. Maybe get the conversation going towards her own designs? The interview was tomorrow. She had made things in less time, but it would have to be perfect and-

“Marinette.” Adrien grabbed her shoulders to make her focus. She was sure he was saying something to her, but she was too in her head to pay any attention. “You could walk in there in a burlap mumu and mismatched trainers and they would have to hire you. You know why?”

She shook her head, eyes going wide. Never mind the fact that he was so close and was touching her arms in a strangely intimate way, but he was being far too kind for any sort of her comfort. 

“Because you’re Marinette Dupain-motherfucking-Cheng.” She barked out a laugh. “You are smart and funny and kind and talented, and you have more than enough skill to fill the position of that woman’s assistant. Hell, you have the skill to _be_ the director of a fashion company.” 

They stood together in the middle of the hallway for a long while, long enough for the hourly traffic to filter each body to their respective classes and leave them alone with a couple of stragglers that were late or leaving early. With his hands keeping her grounded, she felt more secure than she had in a long time. He was right, right? She would be fine. She could do this. 

Abruptly, he pulled her in for a tight hug, and she stiffened in his arms. 

“You’re amazing, Marinette.” 

She was lucky that her face was buried in his chest because the heat that spread across her face was sure to make her look like a tomato. Her arms found themselves wrapping around him, loving this new feeling of his body outside of the sterile atmosphere of the classroom. 

When he finally pulled away - because lord knows she would never initiate the distance that came between them - she felt frazzled for a whole different reason. “Thanks,” she muttered, and raked her fingers through her hair, placing strands firmly behind her ears. He was too kind for his own good, and she was unused to that sort of physical affection coming from someone so… perfect. 

“No problem.” They started walking toward lunch, where they worked diligently on the project due in three days. 

While the worked, a text from Alya displayed brightly across Marinette’s phone. 

_I have an important interview tomorrow that runs through yours. I’m sorry, but I can’t drive you. Can you find another ride?_

Worry spread through her, but she thought hard before answering. She could take the metro. Find a bus. She would be later to ballroom than she wanted to be, but it didn’t matter. 

_ill be fine. good luck_

Her phone buzzed back almost immediately. 

_You too. Kill it._

She sighed and went back to cleaning the lines of one of the covers. She had been over it about a hundred time by now, but she still found little imperfections that needed correcting. She huffed.

“What’s up?” Adrien asked, looking over her shoulder at the piece. They had become familiar with the physical vernacular of each other’s frustrations. More often than not, the other person saw what needed correcting or was more capable of fixing an error than the other. Working together made their project better. They made a good team. 

But she shook her head. “Oh, it’s not the cover. Alya just can’t drive me to my interview tomorrow, so I have to take the metro.” 

“I can drive you, if you want. I mean, the Gorilla can. We both know I don’t drive.” He grinned and her heart trembled. 

“Thanks, Adrien, but I can’t. It’s right before ballroom, and I don’t want to make you late. That’s unfair.”

He thought for a moment. “Well, you’re my partner in ballroom anyway. So if you were late, I would have to dance with myself. Or worse, I’ll have to dance with Jackie and I’ll look like an idiot.” 

Jackie was the most experienced dancer in their class, who often served as a model for perfection when it came to dance. The professor even turned to her when he forgot technical terms or needed a reminder about how a certain step went or how to hold one’s arms. However well Adrien held himself on the dance floor - which was pretty damn well - nobody looked good next to Jackie. 

Laughing, she finally conceded. “Fine, you can drive me. Thanks, Adrien.” She said it like it was a burden, but a weight was released from her shoulders. 

“No problem,” he reminded her, and they spent the rest of their time working in silence. 

When ballroom came around, they kept cracking jokes with one another about how Adrien would look dancing with Jackie. Marinette insisted that he would be able to hold his own - and look good while doing it - but Adrien made it a point to trip as much as possible over her feet when they learned new steps. He told her that he was actually a clumsy mess but somehow he was able to hold it together to impress the cute girls in the class. 

“I’m sure Jackie has taken notice,” she said, gesturing to where Jackie unabashedly checked out his “footwork”, among other assets. 

“I’m not talking about Jackie.” 

It was official, Adrien was a giant flirt. Marinette could not handle it, and receded slightly into herself, looking at his forehead instead of into his eyes like a proper dancing pair should. His hand at the small of her back made her warm, but she reminded herself that she couldn’t be interested. It wouldn’t be good for her at this point. She had too much else in her life that was in chaos for a boy to mess anything up. 

He noticed the change in attitude with his comment, and he regretted it. Neither of them could look the other in the eye anymore, and they constantly blushed through the rest of the class. 

They reviewed and confirmed plans for the next day as they walked to the parking lot where Alya picked Marinette up everyday, and they waved goodbye. Marinette was blushing more than usual. 

“What is it?”

“He’s a flirt.”

“No he’s no-” Alya’s eyes went wide, but she didn’t give a hint as to why. A knowing grin spread over her face as she started down the street. “Oh yeah. Total flirt. The worst.”

\-----

Marinette shook as she sat across the current assistant to Ms. Roux, Rachel. They had chatted for a while before she took her seat, and apparently, she was going on maternity leave and needed a replacement as soon as possible. Marinette wanted to ask about the position, what would be required of her, because precious little information had been given to her over the past couple of days, but she was left in the dark when the receptionist went to take a call. 

So there she stayed, in an old grey blazer she’d had to take in at the shoulders and waist, a black pencil skirt that was too short to be professional, but was also the only thing that made her look like she knew what she was doing, and a soft purple blouse that complemented the blue of her eyes, waiting. Her leg bounced up and down, the strap of her short heels slipping off every so often, so she’d have to bend over and readjust the strap, then every other piece of clothing she had disturbed. 

By the time the assistant had told her to enter the office, she was ready to bolt. Instead, she stood, composed herself, took a long, deep breath, and pushed the door to the office open. 

The office, much like the rest of the floor of the building, was open, large, and gorgeously decorated. A small lounge of plush white chairs and a couch were centered around a modern, asymmetric glass coffee table at the front of the room. The singular wall that wasn’t completely made of windows was a large bookcase, filled with encyclopedias, novels, and archived magazines alike. Past the makeshift lounge was a large desk that spanned half of the room. 

Mostly bare, a bank of three monitors sat at the corner of the desk, decorative cups held pens and pencils at the ready, and a small silver placard displayed the name of Ms. Roux. 

The woman herself typed away at her keyboard, staring intently between the three screens, seeming to multitask between the monitors. She was younger than Marinette expected, with auburn hair pulled back into a tight chignon, her eyes expertly made up, and her lips a devastating shade of deep red. She sported a daring amount of cleavage between a low cut, black silk top that fell wide of her shoulders, exposing the straps of lacy bralette. She looked she could kill you with just an offhand glance, but the set of her eyes was kind and her stance open. 

When Marinette entered, she offered a wide grin, her lips parting to expose bright white teeth. 

“Marinette!” she exclaimed, and rose, coming around the desk. Her dark skirt matched the shade she wore on her lips, but she didn’t wear shoes. They were probably lost under her desk during the day. She came up to Marinette, barely an inch shorter, and embraced her. 

She had no idea what to do, so she hugged back. A quick embrace and then she stood awkwardly, waiting to introduce herself. 

“Please, have a seat,” Ms. Roux said, gesturing towards the white chairs that were intimidating in their crisp cleanliness. Marinette felt like she was breaking some sort of rule by placing herself on one, but Ms. Roux draped herself comfortably across her own. She tried to copy the ease of movement. 

“Ms. Roux, it’s-”

“Oh, please. It’s Francesca. I hate the formalities of last names.” 

Marinette smiled to herself and began again. “Francesca, I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you’ve decided to speak with me. I’ve been job hunting for a while, and it’s always been a dream of mine to work in fashion. Being here is such a privilege.”

Francesca listened intently and broke into a wide grin. “I’m just as privileged, honestly. You come very highly recommended.” 

“My... professor? Do you know her somehow?”

Both women looked at each other with confusion. “You professor? Oh, darling, no. Mr. Agreste. It took me off guard when he called yesterday. He told me how highly he thought of you and what a wonderful addition you would make to this company.” Marinette was taken aback. “I must say, he’s quite fond of you.” 

“Adrien called you?”

“Yes, dear. He didn’t tell you?”

“No.” A pit of upset took root in her stomach. “No, he didn’t.”

“Well, that’s fine.” She waved her hand in ardent dismissal and changed subjects. “I’ve reviewed your resume, which looks fine, if plain. You check off all the necessary boxes, and you have experience working with people, which is always a plus. You will be answering a lot of phones, I’m afraid, but Rachel assures me that the work isn’t all bad. Apparently, I’m a fun boss.” They laughed together, Marinette not quite in it, still distracted by thoughts of Adrien. “Oh, I forgot,” Francesca stood. “Would you like anything? Some wine, juice…?”

“Um, water would be fine, thank you.” Marinette’s mouth was dry, and she took the moment that Francesca didn’t have eyes on her to reorient herself. Was she just here because of Adrien’s recommendation? Probably. But she needed a job, and she couldn’t blow this one. She would just have to run with it, make the best of it. 

Still, she could feel the absurd sense of betrayal building in her. 

Ms. Roux returned and handed Marinette a tall glass of water, while she herself sipped on a glass of red wine. 

“Francesca,” Marinette started, beginning her speech that she had been mulling over in her mind all day. “I’m really honored at the chance to work with you and your company, and I must say I’m more than ready to take on any challenges that you have for me. I’m an incredibly hard worker, and I’m extremely dedicated-”

“Marinette, I know all this already.”

“You… do?”

“Yes, Adrien told me all about you. I’ve been friends of the family for years, and any time he thinks so highly of someone as he does of you, I have to take interest, especially if you have interest in me.” She set her glass down on the table and leaned closer to Marinette, as if they were going to have an intimate conversation. “Think of this less of an interview and more of a get-to-know-you. I’d like to know more about you, and hopefully you have some questions for me.” She went back to sipping at her wine with the same signature smile. 

They spent the next ten minutes discussing what Marinette expected to come of her life - wanting to become a designer, hopefully sign with a label or start her own, and to build from the bottom to create a strong company that would be successful, whatever that meant. She tried to sound as passionate as possible whenever she spoke - and it wasn’t difficult. This job, if she even got it in the first place, was a dream. 

Francesca claimed to admire the ambition, but Marinette couldn't tell how much of it was genuine, and how much she just wanted to make a good impression on Adrien and the Agreste name. 

Nearing the end of the time they had, Francesca decided to wrap things up. 

“Thank you for coming in today, Marinette. It had been great meeting you. Please, call with any questions you might have, and when you are available to begin.”

A weight settled on Marinette’s chest, and she decided she had to speak up. It sounded as if she were already guaranteed the job, but she hadn’t even had a proper interview. If Francesca liked her, it was one thing, but there was nothing what she picked up from the conversation that felt like anything more than stiff formalities. Sure, they were friendly as strangers, but that’s where it ended. Marinette didn’t even know about any of her job descriptions. 

She stopped by the door and turned, half hiding herself behind her own body. 

“Ms. Ro- Francesca.” She was sitting back at her desk, sitting straight and preparing to type on her keyboard. “I hope I don’t offend by saying this, but I didn’t want the help of Adrien to get this job. I didn’t ask for it. He’s a friend of mine, and he means well, but I can't have it on my conscious that I would only be working here on the recommendation of someone so prominent in the industry. I truly am trying to make a name for myself, and I don’t think I will be able to do that on the coattails of someone like Adrien, especially since we’ve grown… closer lately.”

She took a deep breath and watched as Francesca’s face fell from contained and friendly to what could only be expressed as relaxed and… impressed? Marinette set her shoulders back with new found confidence, and turned more firmly towards Ms. Roux. 

“So, whatever choice you make regarding my employment at this company, please only hire me because you want me to work with you, and you see me as someone who will be valuable to you as an assistant and work associate. I think I have a lot to offer you besides an appeasement to the Agrestes, and I don’t want you to feel obligated to me through them. I-” she wasn’t sure what to say next. 

“Thank you for speaking with me today, Ms. Roux. And I truly hope I made a good impression. If I’m meant to work here, then I think I’ll be happy, and I hope you will be, too.” 

That was it. Leave, Marinette. It’s time to go.

“Marinette,” Francesca called across the long office. She had crossed her hands in front of her on the desk, fingers interlocking, and eyed Marinette intently. A smirk pulled up the edges of her lips, less friendly than it was when she walked in, but infinitely more familiar. “Thank you for coming in. I look forward to your call.”

They nodded their goodbyes, and Marinette scurried from the office as quickly as possible, hurrying outside to where the car idled, waiting for her. She hopped in the back seat, where Adrien had just been playing on his phone. 

“How’d it go?” 

She didn’t answer for a moment, still not having processed everything that had happened in there. 

“You called her. Without asking me. To tell her that you wanted me to work for her.” It wasn’t posed as a question, but still demanded an answer. 

It took a moment for him to register the frustration in her voice. No. It was anger. “I thought-”

“But you didn’t, Adrien. And you didn’t ask me. That’s not fair.” She refused to make eye contact, but instead stared at where his hands were placed in his lap. It hurt that she had to even accuse him of something like that, and hurt worse that he admitted so easily. He didn’t understand what that meant to her. “If I’m not supposed to get this job, or any job, I don’t want you to come in and pull some strings to put me somewhere I don’t belong. That’s not who I am. I’m trying to make a name for _myself_. I don’t need you doing it for me.” 

Her arms crossed themselves about her chest and she slumped down in her seat, not minding that the short skirt rode up to reveal a good portion of her thigh. She was not in the mood to be polite at the moment, and she didn’t feel like any apologies, so when Adrien started, she put a hand up to stop him. 

“Please. I can’t right now. I-”

The incessant buzzing of the phone in her hand cut her off. She watched akuma alert after article headline spring onto her phone, and leapt to attention, looking out the window. They were close to the bakery, her old house. It was somewhere that would be safe to transform.

“Pull over,” she told the Gorilla.

“Marinette, there’s an akuma attack.” She hadn’t noticed Adrien’s phone lighting up with the same alerts as hers, but it didn’t really matter at the moment. She needed an excuse to get out of the car. 

Slipping off her shoes so she would be able to run faster, she crafted one. “My mother lives close. I need to make sure she’s okay.” 

The car was pulling to a stop when Adrien interjected. “We can drive you. It’s not safe.” 

“The bakery is behind us. I have to get there quickly. I’ll find my own way back to class, okay? My mom has a car I can borrow.” She slipped out of the car as Adrien called for her to stop, but she was sprinting back down the street before he could prevent her from doing so. 

The akuma was close, and all the patrons of the bakery were to hide in the kitchens if there was an attack close by. Every store had its own precautions. Their own safe places that they would go when there was an attack too close for comfort. Businesses were made around making and installing high quality, cage-like shelters that would protect you from a building collapsing or an akuma spitting fire at you. 

The store was stark and empty when she burst in, and she headed straight for the stairs at the back that would lead up to the balcony. Taking the stairs two by two, she was on the roof and transforming in no time, zipping out towards the reports of the attack. 

Hammer hands was a new one, but they looked as menacing as they sounded ridiculous. The Leveler took great pride in screaming his name and smashing things to tiny bits. He laid waste to large chunks of buildings, popped tires off of cars in one hit, and knocked over lamp posts and traffic lights like they were nothing. He screamed for her to come to him, taunting that he wished to speak with her. 

“Come out, come out, little bug!” His voice was gravelly and strained, like he spoke around the bulging muscles in his neck. He was grotesquely built, his arms and legs thick like tree trunks, his face contorted with anger. 

Ladybug stood atop a building nearby, taking in the scene as quickly as possible. The Leveler was large, but he was slow, and it wouldn't be too difficult to reach in and nab the akumatized article from his person. The problem were the sheer size of his fists, large circular slabs of metal that he swung easily, crashing into things, and sometimes each other, creating a sound like a thunderclap that shook the foundations of the buildings. 

She would resort to her tried and true method, she thought, by wrapping him with her yoyo to render him immobile and take the moment of relative safety to cleanse the akuma. She noted that the trajectory of destruction was heading straight towards the bakery, where she knew people were cowering in fear and wait. 

A hint of panic was added to her calculating plan. 

Taking action was the last step. She swung in to meet the Leveler, dropping in front of him before he was about to smash in the window of a boutique. A slow smile spread across his face when he registered who it was, and he flexed his muscles, trying to be intimidating. 

It didn’t work on her. 

“Ladybug.” Each syllable was spit from his mouth. His uneven, yellowed teeth showed from behind his thin lips. 

“Hi,” she waved. 

With a tremendous growl, the Leveler swung out with his bulbous arms, swinging towards Ladybug as she backflipped away, easily dodging every attack. 

She took her time dodging his strikes to gauge the real speed, and any abilities he might be hiding to catch her off guard. It seemed pretty simple, and her distraction provided cover for civilians to get out of danger. She spotted trickling streams of people ducking behind cars and in doorways, quickly finding their way to less dangerous areas. 

While the Leveler was preoccupied with her, he no longer was swinging aimlessly and causing property damage. There was significantly less danger for all those around her, including her mother less than a block away, if she remained engaged. The time that she fought she used to look for the akumatized item that he held on him. 

Out of the corner of her eyes, she spotted the door of a car she recognized opening. Adrien stepped out of the car, watching the fight fold out in front of him. While she was distracted by the sight of him, and surprised by his refusal to get himself to safety, the Leveler took a swipe at her that came far too close for comfort. 

He roared mightily and clenched both fist-hammers together above his head, rearing back and ferociously slamming them into the ground. The ensuing rumble and scattering of rubble caused Ladybug to fall back slightly. She used her yoyo, spinning in a fevered circle, as a shield to the debris that would have caused her harm, and recovered from the shocking blow. 

Her yoyo moved at the flick of her wrist, locking around the wrist-portion of his over sized body and securing his hands together. She crept close to him, avoiding the movement that he was still able to do, as he swung in disoriented circles. He caused much more damage than she would have liked, so she acted quickly, crawling over to him and searching for the purple-tinted item. 

A tool belt sported a large hammer with a black handle and purple head that didn’t go with his strictly grey ensemble. Adrenaline ran through her as she went to grab for it, but one of his muscular arms was in the way. She reached past him, stretching her arms to the limit, trying to hook a finger around the akumatized object.

“Ladybug!” she heard a scream from behind her, and her head snapped up to see what was wrong. 

Somehow, the Leveler had loosened the bond of her yoyos, and in a tremendous ripping move, he wrenched his arms backwards, flinging her from her perch draped over his arm. 

She felt herself flying through the air, the wind coming at her from all directions, and watched as the Leveler’s form grew more and more distant. Comprehension that she was going to come to a painful stop made its way slowly into her mind, until her back slammed into the corner of a brick wall. 

The sharp edges of the uneven bricks bit into her back, stabbing into her ribcage. She felt her head slam into the wall as well, and a brief darkness overtook her. 

Coming to, she saw the Leveler smiling before her, advancing slowly. Her brain was scrambled, and she stood only to have the world spin around her. She grasped her head painfully. Her legs fumbled beneath her, trying to hold herself upright, but it took leaning heavily on the wall behind her to keep herself from falling over. 

A chorus of screams and shouts came from spectators that took time away from getting themselves to safety to watch her. 

Leveler was suddenly directly in front of her. Maybe not suddenly, maybe he moved very slowly, but the end result was the same: she was defenseless, her yoyo lying limp in the middle of the street, and he was going to kill her. 

Giant grey, muscular arms encased in metal and ending in a blunt hammer rose before her, and she could do nothing but watch. It seemed distant to her, the way the sun glinted off of the dull metal, how the crowd that had been spectating spoke out as one, anguished in the inevitability of her being crushed. Would Hawkmoth even be able to extract her miraculous from beneath the rubble that would become her body?

As the hammers came crashing down, she could do nothing but watch, resigned to her fate. 

It was an unexpected turn of events when she closed her eyes, not to feel the weight of the akuma’s fists bare down on her, but to go flying sideways, a force knocking her to the ground, out of the way of the deadly hammers. 

The second shock to her body righted everything in her head. Something, someone had plowed into her and knocked her out of the way, saving her from becoming a rad pancake on the ground. The relief of the crowd gathered was palpable, and there were people who were crying from the fear and confusion of what had happened. 

Ladybug sprung upright, ready again to fight. She looked down at her savior, who was still lying on the ground, disbelief clouding his eyes. 

“Adrien! What the hell?” She pulled him upright, seeing that they were still dangerously close to the Leveler, and grabbed his hand. They sprinted towards her yoyo which laid sadly in the middle of the street, and she swung away with him in the crook of her arm, depositing him in a safe place. “Stay,” she ordered, and swung back into the fight. 

Knowing now where the akumatized item was made the fight much easier. The shock from the Leveler escaping her bonds was a flub, and she would make sure it wouldn’t happen again. For now, they had moved far closer to the bakery than Marinette would ever want an akuma. 

“Hey!” She screamed to the akuma, where he had gotten bored of her and went back to destroying property randomly. His attention turned back to her when she yelled for him, and she wrapped her yoyo surely in her hands. 

“Little bug,” he laughed. “Come come.” He opened his hammer fists and smashed them together repeatedly, like a bull ready to charge. 

It took no more than twenty seconds for Ladybug to render him immobile and cleans the hammer that had been used to akumatize him. She sent Tikki’s magic around to heal and repair much of the destroyed avenue, but there was still much to be fixed. 

She approached the man who had been akumatized, who turned out to be a scrawny imp of a man without much muscle mass at all. She helped him up and escorted him to an ambulance that awaited a passenger. 

As she watched first responders - after her, of course - respond, she found herself less needed, but her attention remained at the scene. Behind her, where she deposited Adrien to retain his safety, she could just see him sitting against a wall. She walked over to him, her back screaming at her from the pain of the attack, but she didn't stop until she stood before him. 

“Adrien,” she called down to him. He looked up expectantly, and his face transformed into shock when he saw who was speaking to her. 

He stood quickly, straightening his clothes and running a hand through his hair. “Ladybug. Hi, I, um - wow. Um. Hi.”

“You can’t do that.” 

Shock. Confusion. Comprehension. 

“What? Pushing you out of the way?”

“Putting yourself in danger. That’s not your job.”

“You could have died.”

“No, Adrien,” she told him sternly. He looked taken aback, but she kept on. “ _You_ could have died. You can’t just… put yourself in danger like that. You could get hurt or worse.”

“Well… so could you!” He was getting frustrated, perhaps because of his confusion. He would have thought that she would be grateful for help, that she would come over to give him some recognition towards his rescue. But she didn’t need help, she told herself. Her work was far too dangerous for others to join her. 

“Yes. I could. I have been hurt. Many times. Which is why I know that people can’t just come in and try to be a hero willy-nilly. You’ll get hurt. You’ll die. I can’t have that. There’s already too much danger in Paris, and I’m the one who has to deal with it. I can’t have people putting themselves in danger and having to save them.” She sighed heavily, rubbing her temples. “Please, Adrien. You can’t put yourself in danger.” 

Tears swelled in her throat. She forced herself to look away from him, the thought of him in danger making her entire body ache more than being power slammed into a brick wall. Maybe not, but it didn’t suit her. She wanted him, all people, to remain safe. That was her job, after all. 

Now, though, that she felt herself growing closer to Adrien, the crush that she felt at their first meeting growing into something far more profound, imagining him hurt… that killed her. 

With her emotions at bay, she looked back up at Adrien, who stood a head taller than her. “Promise me,” she asked. She pleaded. 

He stood before her, staring down into her eyes, and he could feel a heat growing in his cheeks. She wanted to take his hand, make him swear on something physical, that he wouldn't risk himself. 

“I c-”

Can’t? The mere thought of him refusing her made her heart break. 

But as they shared a silent conversation between one another, he nodded, and she nearly sobbed. 

“I promise.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ladybug remembers what it's like to be a different kind of hero.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I haven't posted in over a month.... lol.
> 
> Sorry about that, I'm a piece of shit. But I have a lot planned out for this story, so there's gonna be a lot of fluff and action coming up. :D I'm so excited

Her transformation slipped off her body as she landed on the balcony of her apartment. The cold air slammed into her and she rushed inside, shivering against the cold. She had left her warmer clothes in Adrien’s car when she had gone running to save the bakery from the akuma barely an hour before. 

She would have arrived at her ballroom class half way through if she had decided to go at all. But since it was the last class of the day, and she had once again saved Paris, she decided that it would be okay to let herself rest. 

Just this once. 

Grabbing up one of the heated blankets from her room, she plugged it into a spare outlet near the couch and settled in, kicking off her boots and surrounding herself with as much warmth as possible. Tikki snuggled up to her neck, thawing with the heat that Marinette was encasing herself with. She flipped on the TV and sat back on the couch, closing her eyes and letting herself drift into a hazy daydream while the noise of the newscaster faded into background noise. 

That akuma had been strong. Not that she couldn’t handle it, but it was stronger than most akuma she faced. Siren and Jockey and Mirage had been dangerous in different ways. 

Siren had an army by her side and razor sharp claws that could cut through her suit. The fading scar on her back twinged as she thought of the biting pain of her nails. 

Jockey had numbers on his side, causing chaos to those around him. It was easy enough to get him to release the akumatized object and purify it, but if she had taken just a minute longer, who knew what damage would have been done, and what lives would have been lost to the raging stampede. 

Mirage was a force like nothing Ladybug had ever seen or come up against. She was stealthy, sly, and sharp, the three worst ‘S’ words Marinette could think of for an akuma. It had taken everything in her to defeat the akuma, and still she had to get outside help. 

And the Leveler. The sheer force of his blows must have broken her ribs and given her a severe concussion. She could feel what once was a major break mending itself with the help of Tikki’s magic, fading the pain into a dull bruise. The back of her head was encrusted with a old layer of blood. She grimaced at the pain it brought just by sweeping her hand through her hair. And the destruction the Leveler caused so many others was far more substantial. 

While the majority of the people got away safely, she knew that there were people who had got hurt. It was inevitable. That just didn’t happen with the other akuma. 

Sure, Siren controlled the minds of the people around her, but no one was seriously injured. The Jockey only caused major traffic disruption. Mirage took all of her anger out on Ladybug. 

The fact that an akuma had caused damage to other people besides Ladybug made her skin crawl. And she was there practically as soon as the akuma started its rampage. If she had been at school, or across town, who knows how much damage could have been wrought. She didn’t want to think about it. 

What did this mean for future akuma? Was Hawkmoth getting stronger? Were they going to keep sending more formidable opponents for her to take care of? Were more people going to get hurt?

She wished she had answers. 

Her attention turned to the TV, and a safer space for her brain to be in. There was no use stewing over the impossible to know. The future was fluid, and any speculation on her part was bound to be inaccurate. She could only prepare. 

“... footage from the scene of today’s attack shows Ladybug being rescued by a civilian. It appears she was knocked back by the force of the akuma’s blow, was dazed, and was unable to make it out of the way herself. If it weren’t for the unknown bystander, our hero might have been in more trouble than we’ve ever seen her. 

“It begs the question,” Marinette groaned. She was not in the mood for more questions and speculation. Nonetheless, she kept watching. “Is Ladybug losing her edge, or are the akuma she fights on a regular basis becoming stronger? Perhaps too much for her to handle on her own?”

Marinette sat up. 

No, she thought. No, no, no no no. 

They didn’t understand the implications. If people thought she wasn’t strong enough to handle herself, then there would be panic. The whole point of having a superhero in Paris was to instill calm and hope in the people she protected. If they thought that they might be in moral danger whenever an akuma arrived, there would be sheer panic. Chaos. Civilians would cause more danger to themselves than when they just got out of the way and to safety. 

The people of Paris needed to trust her. Trust Ladybug. 

“Does our famous, solo superheroine need a sidekick? Perhaps a partner to help ease the load she carries. Protecting the city is no easy task, and, as we have seen, the weight might just be too much for one person alone. I’m Nadja-”

“This isn’t good,” Tikki muttered first, her voice muffled as she spoke into the blanket nuzzled around her tiny body.

“No.” Marinette couldn’t keep herself from watching the replay of the footage of her being saved by Adrien. “No, it’s not good at all.”

\-----

One of the ways in which this situation was in no way good reared its head three days later. 

Hawkmoth had sent another akuma after Ladybug’s Miraculous. It had been a while since she had seen an akuma who hadn’t merely wanted to cause untold destruction and chaos in the world. It was a refreshing change of pace that she specifically was being targeted. It certainly made fighting more entertaining. 

The Juggler’s name was even more creative than his akuma-suit. Black and white and looking like a clown, he juggled multi colored balls and threw them all over the place. According to their color, they acted in different ways. 

The pink bounced at hyper speed, crashing into and through things, smashing windows and causing huge rushes of wind to make people go spinning in their tracks. Grey was light as a feather when it went whizzing through the air, but when it made contact with the brick of a building, it exploded and went bounding back to it’s master’s hand. Blue caused sticky residue to splatter in all directions, pinning whoever was unfortunate enough to be touched in place until it was recalled back into the akuma’s hands. Green sent a smell so putrid Marinette wanted to transform out of her suit and vomit all over the place. She resisted. 

Fortunately enough, he was only able to use one ball at a time. While the pink ball whipped around the plaza, crashing into cars that were parked on the side of the road, breaking the glass of a lamppost, shattering the windows of displays and restaurants alike, Ladybug had surveyed the situation enough for her liking. 

She dropped directly into the path of the pink ball, swinging her yoyo with enough force to send the pink ball straight up. How long it would take to get back down to earth, she really didn’t know. Or care, for that matter. She was determined, with a newfound frustration, to get this done with as quickly as possible. 

It had not been a good week. Plagg was sick, which meant he required more attention than she was accustomed to. Alya was more worried about her than usual, meaning she liked to check up a lot, which was sweet, but got annoying after a while. The public thought that Ladybug could no longer do her job on her own. There were people calling for her resignation, which made no sense to her. She was to hold an official press conference that day, but an akuma had decided to interrupt the party. And she and Adrien had lost the Jagged Stone cover art competition. 

The crowd that had once been gathered to watch her speak had scattered. They were lucky it was so early. Ladybug was not expected to speak for another hour, and the conference itself didn’t begin for another forty five minutes. The gathering of people were mostly her supporters, coming early to get as close a look as possible to the Hero of Paris. 

They hid as far as possible from the akuma, who had dropped in and rolled to crash through the assembled and waiting press like a bowling ball. She hadn’t been there yet. She usually waited until the very last minute to transform, because she never knew how long those things would run. 

She never knew how long Tikki’s transformation would last. She had asked once, and Tikki said she could hold out indefinitely if the Lucky Charm were not used and she wasn’t strained too much, but Marinette didn’t like to push it. Tikki worked hard enough, and Ladybug didn’t need to make extended visits very often, so she would cut them short wherever she could. 

She had been half way across town, watching the local news channel, waiting for her cue, when she saw the attack on TV. She had transformed and been flying out her window before her phone gave its first alert. 

The Juggler stood, really, he hunched, before her now, tossing the colorful balls through the air. It got annoying pretty fast, and Marinette was not a fan of clowns. 

“Well, well. You’ve come to surrender your Miraculous?” 

Ladybug scoffed. She was not in the mood for banter. “You wish it would be that easy.” Arms crossed over her chest, her yoyo still spinning under an elbow. “No,” she sighed. “I’m afraid we’re going to do this the old-fashioned way.”

He lunged first, as she suspected he would. A blue ball whizzed through the air, passing narrowly by her cheek as she dodged and made a move of her own. 

The red yoyo in her hand was no more than a blur as it spun, casting out to knock some of the balls from his hands. She managed to capture two of them within her yoyo, and spat out two perfectly normal balls, which bounced to the ground limply. Both she and the akuma looked to each other with surprise. She had never done that before. She didn’t even know that she _could_ do that. 

A smirk grew over her face as she found a new form of attack. 

She burst from her stance and charged towards him, her yoyo spinning wildly beside her. Perhaps not the most calculated move she had ever made, but she wanted to be done with the fight. 

It was never a good idea to come into a fight with outside frustrations. It was a lesson that Ladybug had learned time and again, coming out the other side with fresh bruises, scrapes and cuts, broken bones when she had no reason to be sore the next day with how easy the akuma were to purify. She took stupid, illogical risks, always, and it never served her well. 

Pain spread through her shoulder as she felt a ball hit her square in the joint. She growled and watched as blue goo spread across her arm, pinning it in place by her side. The Juggler cackled and honked the ball horn that was his nose, cartwheeling away. 

She really hated clowns. 

With one arm down, she switched hands, her - thankfully - dominant right hand now spinning the yoyo like a lasso, ready to trap the clown in its place. 

Juggler span around her, literally bouncing off walls like his pink ball, and passing by where she stood in the middle of the square. Every time he passed, he would laugh in her ear, or tap her on the shoulder, making fun of the way she kept an eye on him. He cackled every time she made a face of distaste in his direction. 

She resisted the temptation to act on instinct and start pummeling him into the ground. Time and time again, she had proven how ineffective that was. Instead, she took a deep breath and stood her ground, her yoyo spinning in her hand, lying low like a trap ready to be sprung. 

To passersby, or the hidden civilians she knew were hiding in the street, it might look like she was just standing still, not doing anything. Her body was tense and rigid, her stance firmly in place to avoid being tackled by the Juggler. But her mind was working on overtime, watching as he bounced here and there, judging the time it took him to make it across the square. 

It was surprisingly even, the pattern he made. Bank, bakery, car, lamppost, and back again, taunting her midair on the way past. 

He ricocheted off of a wall to her left and came bounding towards her, the balls he juggled trailing behind him as if tracking a powerful magnet. She watched carefully as he passed right by her face, a huge grin plastered across his cheeks. She smiled with him. 

Her arm wound up behind her as he passed, ready to throw the yo-yo and end his short reign of terror. She saw his trajectory. He would pass by her, land on the car parked twenty meters away, and fly back towards her, right into the tangled web of her yo-yo, trapped and immobile. He wouldn’t be able to stop as he flew through the air, his own antics his downfall. She felt her still body surging to life, muscles clamping down or springing apart, moving in a blur. 

But as he bounded past and touched down on the car, the force of his impact knocking it back onto its side wheels, someone jumped out in front of him to try and stop him. The civilian, by the looks of it middle aged and male, wrapped his thick arms around the akuma, holding tight as it crashed into him. 

“Stop!” Ladybug shouted, watching as the two tumbled to the ground, their bodies tied together and twisting like a tangle of angry snakes. Her own inertia from her defensive move caused her to trip over herself. When she regained balance, a blur of red sprinted towards them as fast as she could carry herself, and she heard more than saw the bang of the exploding grey ball blow between them. 

“No!” Marinette fell to the side of the two, both looking dazed and disoriented, as they rolled apart from each other. 

Before she could examine anything, she ripped the jangling purple bell from the hat of the Jester, shattering it, and shoving the toxic butterfly unceremoniously into her yo-yo. She didn’t bother with taking care not to injure the akuma, but it fluttered away nonetheless, unscathed. Not that she noticed. 

All of her attention was taken up by the bleeding man below her. His breathing was labored, his eyes wide and wild, glancing around directionlessly. A black spray of dust, remnants of the exploding ball showered him, the fine powder covering the whole of his chest, making it look like a dark void of nothingness. His dark skin nearly disappeared beneath all of it. There was a large bruise already forming on the exposed part of his neck, and no doubt it extended below his shirt, onto his ribs, chest, stomach. 

There could be no telling how powerful the exploding ball was, but it was in close proximity to their bodies. It was _between_ them. Neither of them should be breathing at that point. 

She didn’t have a Lucky Charm to cleanse and heal with, so she settled for crying out for an ambulance. First responders were already on their way, as they always were, at the first call of an akuma. 

Ladybug didn’t know what to do, watching as the man who had put himself in the path of the Jester, and the de-akumatized man himself shuttered and coughed, chests heaving in pain. 

She held the man’s head between her hands, looking down at him. “What were you thinking?” She asked, mostly to herself. He might not even be able to hear her. 

A small smile spread across his lips, and a horrible, hacking cough brought spittle and a hint of bright blood to his lips. Ladybug’s heart rate sped to twice its speed. Was he going to die? He couldn't die. His smile was pained, but he kept it in place. 

“I… I saved you.” 

His voice was gritty and small, barely a breath. Tears were forming in Ladybug’s eyes. “You didn’t have to. Why did you- I can't-” Sobs were staring in her chest, drowned out by the sound of sirens as the ambulances, fire trucks, and police vehicles squealed into the square. 

The security that was set up for the press conference stayed at the sidelines, keeping curious crowds at bay. 

“Over here!” Ladybug shouted at the first paramedic she saw. Her voice was raw, but she ignored it. 

“What happened?” The paramedic team was composed of two brunette women, one young and blue-eyed, the other older with dark brown eyes, and a blonde man, who lagged behind with the stretchers. The women took a man each, looking between them, surveying their visible injuries. 

They chatted between each other in hurried, hushed voices. Extracting materials from the emergency bags they carried, they began tending to the men, occasionally passing items between each other, offering hands. They worked in perfect unity, barely speaking but communicating fluidly, the need for words almost nonexistent. 

The women must have been working together for quite a long time, rushing to the sites of emergencies and disasters, saving everyday citizens from assault, abuse, and their own bodies. How many times must those two have come rushing to a scene right as a flash of red disappeared into the sky, leaving them to deal with the aftermath? They worked effortlessly, and Ladybug watched their hands hover over and press into the men’s bodies, trained and accurate. She was transfixed. 

Marinette watched enough Trauma:ER and terrible doctor shows to know that there was more damage than was showing. That bruise across the man’s chest wouldn’t have formed that fast if there wasn’t some kind of internal bleeding. There must be broken bones, maybe punctured lungs. Hypothetical injuries rattled through her brain. 

“Ladybug?”

She was shaken from her trance, let herself see the men and women for who they really were: heroes, helping those in need. 

“There was an explosion. The akuma - he had these juggling balls, and one of them, it was a bomb. I don’t know - tell me what to do. I can help.” 

“Ladybug, you’ve done enough.” The woman with dark brown eyes looked up at her, her gaze comforting and stern. Slight wrinkles at the sides of her mouth and eyes made her entire face softer, but there was a fire in her words that made Ladybug, the Hero of Paris, shut up. “You’ve saved them, and now it’s our turn, okay? Why don’t you go and talk to the crowd. They need some reassurance. Can you do that?”

Tiki made her nod. There was no way that Marinette was in any way going to comfort the crowd. There was nothing she could think to say, and it would come out in a shaking, unsure voice either way. But something about the suit surrounding her, making her Ladybug, calmed her temperamental heart, slowed her breathing, and steadied her hands. 

She allowed herself one last glance at the men on the ground, ran her hands through her hair, and stood with a reassuring smile, steadied as best as she could. 

The crowd being held back by the police were restless and worry-eyed. They all stood on their toes, trying to get a view of the terrible incident they knew occurred behind the shield of the car. All eyes turned to her as she walked over to them. 

She greeted them with a shy smile. “I must assure you, that everything is going to be fine. Those who have been hurt are now in the right hands, and everything is being done to help them. They-” 

Her eyes caught the face of a little girl, no more than eight, standing in the crowd, not holding onto anyone’s skirts or hands. She stood alone, her brown eyes wide, hands clasped into fists at her sides. A rim of tears framed her eyes, but none spilled down her cheeks. 

“Please,” she said. She had never been good at public speaking. Her hands shook by her side, and she clenched them to try and rid herself of the nerves. The last thing she needed was the crowd to see her breaking down. She was frozen now, in the eye of the public, as she loathed to be. Fighting monsters she could do, but looking into the eyes of worried people, those who were the most valuable in Paris, at risk, hurting. It was too much for her. 

There was a reason she shouted “Miraculous Ladybug!” and ditched. 

“Please, let us clear the square to let the emergency teams do their work.” One of the police men who held back the crowd took her speech from her, and she was beyond grateful. The barrier of black jackets pushed back the mulling crowd, and she saw them disperse. 

The arms of the security and police went right over the head of the girl who stood alone, and Ladybug couldn't shake the feeling of needing to go to her. 

Her first steps were hesitant. She wasn’t good one-on-one, unless she was punching someone in the face. But as she approached, the girl began to look more hopeless, and Marinette’s steps grew more confident. She crouched in front of the girl, and looked her in the eye. 

“Are you alright, ma chou?”

A tear streaked down the girl’s cheek. “Is papa alright, Ladybug?” 

Horror and panic struck Ladybug as she looked over her shoulder, where the man who had risked himself for her was being loaded onto a stretcher by the paramedics and shoved into the back of the truck. Before she could say anything, the truck was closed and they were driving away, off to save the man’s life. 

Marinette looked back to the girl, who was watching after the truck as its siren began to flash. “Was it your papa who came to save me, ma chou?” The girl nodded and the knot in Marinette’s stomach tightened. She looked around, but the crowd had completely dispersed. Emergency teams were cleaning up the broken glass on the sidewalks, a man was taking pictures of the damage to his car. The structural chaos after a battle had begun, but Ladybug never usually stack around this long to see it. 

“Is your mama around?” The girl shook her head. Marinette thought. It was no longer the cold and calculated thoughts of Ladybug, who swore to protect the citizens of Paris no matter the cost. She did not have an analytical approach to speaking with the frightened child. Instead, years of babysitting took over her, and she, Marinette, thought of a way out. “Okay. Well your papa is going to be at the hospital. Would you like to go to him?”

The girl nodded, much to Ladybug’s relief. She could transport. She could deliver the girl to the hospital. And after that, she would be free to return to her day, complete the press conference, and go home, unwind from the stress of the battle. 

Ladybug wrapped her arms around the girl and hoisted her up into a hug. “Are you ready?” she asked, readying her yo-yo. 

“No!” The girl began squirming and crying harder. 

Marinette sat her back on the ground as quickly as she could. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

She sniffled. “I’m afraid of heights, Ladybug.”

“Okay. Okay, that’s perfectly fine. Um…” she looked around again, something she felt she should be doing less of. She was running out of ideas on how to help this girl. Taking the metro and subjecting the girl to the stares of strangers was unacceptable. As was walking. Ladybug had no car, no transportation other than her yo-yo. “Then... we’ll call a cab. Is that alright?”

With another nod, Marinette and the girl walked to the closest crossroads and called a cab. It took several minutes for it to get there, and the driver stared unabashedly at Ladybug as she got in the back with the girl. 

By the time they made it to the hospital, the girl had calmed herself somewhat. There were no longer tears welling in her eyes and her fists had relaxed into tense claws. She gripped tightly to Ladybug’s arm, leaning her cheek into her bicep the whole ride. The girl was practically sitting on her lap, and Ladybug found herself softly stroking the girl’s hair. 

It felt strange that there had become such a clear divide between Ladybug and Marinette. 

Ladybug was the thoughtful, analytical, and confident powerhouse of a superhero who fought to protect anyone who needed it, maintained balance. She was brave and sure, somehow getting the answers right whenever she needed them. Ladybug was a hero, someone who was to be looked up to. She found it hard to be that person, but with the help of Tikki, she managed. 

Marinette was the emotional, creative, passionately awkward, and awkwardly passionate counterpart to Ladybug’s clear-headedness. The two people could not be more different, and yet she was both, somehow. 

For years, when she had on the mask, she had no reason to speak to others in any sort of informal manner. She’d had interviews and press conferences in which she must act like a cool-headed, confident professional and nothing more. She didn’t have to be funny, or overly kind, or passionate about anything other than her city and its people.

So as she sat with the girl on the short car ride to the hospital, stroking her smooth hair with gloved fingers, she felt more like Marinette than Ladybug. Confident, analytical, emotional, and empathetic. 

She felt like both at the same time. 

The two girls ended up sitting together for five hours while they waited for the girl’s father to get out of surgery. He had severe internal bleeding, a concussion, and several broken ribs, but the doctors seemed to think he would be fine. They wouldn’t be able to see him for a long while though. 

When Ladybug had first dropped the girl off, she had been ready to make her escape back out the door. Instead, the girl had refused to let go of her arm, holding on as if it was the only thing keeping her father alive. The fear in her eyes made Ladybug’s heart melt, and she decided that she needed to be a different kind of hero for this girl. 

For hours, they sat together, talking quietly in the waiting room and playing games. The girl told Ladybug that her name was Prea, and proudly said that it meant brave. Ladybug told her than she was very brave that day, and she must take it after her father. 

Prea beamed. 

An hour into their waiting and Ladybug asked the girl if she remembered her mother’s number. Prea shook her head. Another caretaker? A grandparent? Aunt or uncle? All she got was a shake of the head. 

“It’s just me and papa,” she told her. Marinette could feel her heart breaking. She was determined to keep the rest of their waiting light and pleasant, but there were other ideas in the air. 

It had quickly been made clear by some reporter on their day off that Ladybug had made her way into the hospital with a little girl. News spread quickly in that world. She had plenty of experience being Alya’s friend. As soon as she got hold of a tidbit of information, her entire group of friends knew. She was known to let out mass group text when she heard something particularly juicy. 

Within an hour, there were reporter vans flooding the parking lot outside of the hospital. The press conference that had been promised that day had been cancelled, but the news outlets would not let go of a story so easily. 

Ladybug watched out the window of the waiting room as people with bulky cameras and microphones loitered in the parking lot, speaking quietly to each other while keeping a steadfast eye on the door of the hospital. Prea watched them, too, arms still holding tightly to Ladybug’s arm. 

After an hour of lying in wait, trying to avoid the responsibilities of the press conference she had promised, she figured it would be better to get the reporters out of the parking lot. Ladybug and Prea walked with each other to the reception desk on the bottom floor. The woman behind the desk looked shell shocked as they walked up to her. 

“How… can I help you?”

“Hi,” Ladybug smiled, and Prea buried herself behind her. “Those reporters outside are here for a press conference that got cancelled because of the akuma attack today. I was wondering if we might be able to set something up in the press room of the hospital so that they can get out of the way of the people outside.”

The woman glanced around for a minute until she picked up the phone and rang for someone with more power than she had. Within an hour, there were cameras, microphones, and flashes of light ringin out before her as Ladybug stood in front of a group of reporters shoved into a tiny room. Prea had refused to leave her side, so she stood there with her, clinging with everything she had, blinking against the harsh lights of the reporter’s cameras. 

She wanted to spare the girl the experience of being on the television, having her face spread across the city, but Prea held steadfast. 

“Are you ready?” Ladybug asked. 

Prea gave a nod, and the two approached the makeshift podium. The smallest of the reporters stood in the front, holding out their recording devices and microphones. Their counterparts stood behind them with cameras like insectile eyes staring right at them. She could see her reflection in the bigger of the lenses. A live feed from one of the cameras was playing on the TV mounted on the wall behind the crowd, and Ladybug saw herself moving to the stand. 

The chattering quieted as they stood in front of the reporters, all sound replaced by the clicking of camera shutters. 

“Hello,” Ladybug started, followed by a chorus of clicks. She had prepared a speech, rehearsed it in her mind for the past weeks, but now it seemed obsolete. There was so much else that she needed to say. “For years, I have stood before you as the Hero of Paris. And I stand before you today bearing the same title. I have worked and gained your trust by going against up the greatest threats this city has seen, and coming out the other side when no one else could. I have been working with the best interests of the people in my mind. I have been training for years in order to protect the people of this city. My friends and my family. My community.

“When there is a threat to the- to _my_ people, I have always gone out of my way to protect them. My personal life, which I know many of you are curious about,” a ripple of chuckles. 

Her identity as a civilian had been subject to inquiry since she had first made her appearance. There were suspicions of neighbors and friends, and the press went out of their way to accuse random citizens of being the infamous Ladybug, but no one ever came close to the truth. Some made it their life mission to be the one to unmask Ladybug. 

“My personal life has become secondary to my responsibilities as Ladybug, but I take my responsibilities very seriously. I am proud to say that I have helped save thousands of lives.”

She took a deep breath. Her hands were shaking, and somehow Prea noticed. The girl moved her hands down Ladybug’s arm and went to hold tightly onto her shaking fingers. Marinette smiled down at the girl, suddenly grateful for the comfort. 

“I am not ashamed to be Ladybug, not burdened, but proud. Being Ladybug and standing to serve the people of my city is the greatest pride of my life. So it comes as a disappointment when I see that the people no longer trust me.

“I believe I have proven myself beyond a doubt that I am worthy of protecting you all, but some do not think that to be the case anymore. At least, I am not capable of my trying work alone, despite evidence to the contrary.” The TV on the wall behind the reporters flickered and died, distracting Ladybug for a moment. “But I promise all of you that I am doing everything I can to protect you. I have been doing this for a long time, and I have not failed you yet.

“There have been reports that I am losing my edge, or the villain I face has become stronger. Either way, these reports sow fear and distrust among the people of Paris, and that is more dangerous a thing than any akuma. I am capable of working alone, and doing the same work that I have done for the past eight years. This I promise you. This is my duty to you, and one that I take very seriously.”

The TV behind the crowd of cameras and microphones lit up black, fizzing with static before clearing again to a blank screen. Ladybug paused slightly in her speech and watched as a green line traced itself across the screen, forming itself into the likeness of a cat’s face. Its glowing eyes blinked open and stared at Ladybug, ignored by the mass of people in the room. Ladybug stared back until she felt Prea tug at her hand. 

“Today, with the attack of the Juggler, this distrust and fear manifested itself. A brave man saw danger, saw what could have been my defeat, and acted upon his fear, putting himself in the face of danger that. In doing this, without the protection that I possess, without the training that I have spent years accumulating, and without the knowledge of battling the akuma, he was gravely injured. What he did may have been brave, but it was misplaced. 

“I must request and demand that no other civilians without the proper protection and training put themselves in danger, especially in an attempt to protect me. I am equipped with special skills and items that absorb the impact of the akuma. No one else, without the aid of my suit, is able to be thrown into a building and keep on fighting.” The cat on the TV blinked and smiled at her, its long whiskers twitching slightly. She barely suppressed the smile on her own face. “No one else should have to be able to. That’s what I’m here for. To protect you.

“I cannot allow anyone else to be hurt. I ask that the public trust me, as I have never failed you before. And I don’t plan being defeated any time soon.”

The room basked in the silence for barely a moment before the reporters crashed into questions, yelling over each other in a cacophony of noise. Questions bombarded her from every direction. She picked one of the people from the crowd, who looked the most eager to ask their question. 

“Ladybug, does this mean that you will not be taking a partner?”

“Not any time soon, no.”

“Has Hawkmoth been getting stronger? Should we be worried?”

“From what I can tell, Hawkmoth and his akuma have been coming up with stronger opponents. They have been harder for me to defeat, after years of easily dispatching akuma. However, this is not a cause for worry. As Hawkmoth gets stronger, so do I.”

“Where is the man who got injured in the fight now?”

Prea’s fingers clenched around hers more firmly, and she squeezed back in reassurance. “He is in surgery at the moment. I… don’t know if I’m allowed to say anything more on the matter. He should be alright.” 

“Who is the girl with you today?”

Ladybug looked down at her, and Prea glanced up. Without a word, the girl snuggled into Ladybug’s arm, leaving the decision up to her. She really wished that the girl would have said yes or no, so the decision didn’t have to be made by her, but she had no choice at that point. 

It really wasn’t her place to say anything, but she knew the question would be asked again. It always was. So she gave as little information as possible. 

“This is the daughter of the man who was… injured. I’m looking after her while we wait. Next question.”

“Ladybug! What do you have to say about the supposed hacking at the scenes of akuma attacks?” 

The TV screen lit up with the cat as soon as the question was asked. There should have been a delay from the subject to the broadcast of the interview. Broadcasters had to delay their programs slightly to cover any mistakes made by the subjects. Bleeps over curse words, blur over indecent exposure, all of that. There was no reason for the cat to have been displayed so quickly after the question was asked if they had been watching the interview on the television. 

They must have hacked directly into the feed from one of the cameras. Or they were in the room, too. 

Ladybug scanned the room with her eyes, trying not to look distracted as she looked for anything suspicious. They would have to have some sort of computer with them, something that would allow them to manipulate the channels of the television. She didn’t think it would be possible to do something like that over a phone, but she didn’t know much. And there were plenty of people there with phones in their hands, reading prepared questions. 

“I’m sure the hacking was done by bored teens who were looking to get closer to the action. Nothing more.” The TV cat frowned, baring white fangs. She didn’t react. No one in the room looked like they could be manipulating the TV. 

“But the hackers made it into public servers and changed the traffic patterns during the Jockey attack. Are they helping you in some way?”

Unfortunately, the rest of the room seemed to be very invested in the question and any answer she might give. Ladybug had already made it clear that she didn’t need help. She wouldn't accept help. She had been called stubborn, but she knew that it was only to keep others safe. 

If the hacker was exposed somehow, Hawkmoth could easily go after them, take any information they might have, and exploit them. Use them to hurt her. Kill them. 

She refused to have anyone else die for her. 

“I have not accepted help from them, no. They have been going out of their way to affect the tides of my battles, but they are not helping.” The cat wrinkled its nose as a glittering blue tear rolled down its face. “I encourage the hackers, whoever they are, to keep to the security cameras and make sure to keep themselves as far from risk as possible. That includes keeping themselves out of the fight, physically or electronically. Next question please.”

The cartoon cat faded from the TV, leaving the blur of a Cheshire grin plastered on the screen for the rest of the interview.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marinette and Adrien become friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I usually post on Saturdays but I forgot to yesterday. My bad. Enjoy anyway ❤️

Alya practically forced Marinette to come out with her that Thursday. Marinette had accepted the internship, as everyone knew she would. She would be crazy to turn it down, even if Adrien had used his influence to get it for her. Her pride didn’t extend to the irrational. She had that Friday off, and Alya said they would live it up for the next couple of days to celebrate as much as they could. 

This meant, obviously, going to bars and making out with your boyfriend. But Marinette didn’t have a boyfriend. Alya did. She made sure everyone knew it. 

“Hi guys!” she literally bounced into the conversation between Nino, Adrien, and Marinette, Felix following close behind her. “I would like everyone to meet my _boyfriend_ Felix.” She stressed the word very emphatically, leaning in to make sure everyone knew that this was in fact, her boyfriend. She had a boyfriend. Boyfriend. 

Hands were shaken across the standing table in the corner of the bar. They migrated to gather around a pool table, waiting for the last members of the group to get there so they could start a game. Marinette had arrived just minutes before Alya and Felix, but the tension that had filled the air between the three was palpable. She kept mostly to herself, only really talking with Nino while she stared at Adrien. 

She felt bad for not trying to hold a conversation with him, but it was so much easier to talk with Nino. There was still swarms of akuma blossoming in her stomach whenever she looked at Adrien. It didn't help that he was so prone to laughing at her stupid jokes. Whenever he smiled, she could literally feel her heart melting into a puddle at her feet. 

Nino was currently talking about the project he was working on. While he mainly DJ’d and played at parties, he was far more interested in making movies. Recently, he was contacted by a director who liked the sound of his music and wanted to add it into one of his films. 

“That’s so exciting, Nino!” Marinette placed a cordial hand on his shoulder and smiled broadly to him. 

He was visibly containing his excitement. “I know, it’s awesome. I’ve been working really hard on it, too. I want it to be perfect. You know, this could be my into the movie biz. Actually being in the room with a director, making contacts, it’s all really big stuff.”

“How long does the song have to be?” Marinette really had no clue how the whole thing worked. “What do you… do?” 

Nino chuckled good-naturedly. “Well, it’s actually pretty cool. So I’m writing the score beneath the movie, so I get to be one of the first people to see parts of the film to write music for.”

“Damn, bro. That’s awesome.” Adrien was leaning on the bar behind Marinette. When she heard him speak she tensed slightly, trembling at the soft feel of his breath on her neck. “What’s it about?” 

Nino’s eyes lingered curiously on Marinette, who blushed knowing someone noticed her reaction to Adrien’s voice. He adopted a ridiculous, frat-boy-trying-to-sound-cool voice and crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, it’s this hood story. They want some fresh beats behind one of the more dramatic scenes.” He clapped his hands together and shrugged happily, dropping the accent. “And apparently the director liked my sound. So there you go.”

“I’m super stoked for you, Nino.” Adrien reached across Marinette to clap him on the back, and she turned slightly to get a look at him as she crossed to close to her. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments and he pulled away a little too quickly.

Did she smell bad? Did she have something in her teeth? She had brushed twice before going out knowing Adrien would be there. Her armpits were covered in probably too much deodorant, and antiperspirant, just to be safe. Nonetheless, she discreetly sniffed as she reached for her drink. 

Nino directed the conversation towards Adrien, forcing Marinette to turn in her seat and face him. “What’ve you been doing lately, bro? We haven’t really caught up in a while. How’s school?” 

“Oh, you know. I’m just studying a lot. While modeling. And being trained to run the company. And dealing with my father all the time. I’m perfect.”

They shared a small laugh. “You’re probably the most bitter person I know,” Nino commented. 

“I’m still going. I still got stuff to live for, you know.” His gaze briefly ran over Marinette as he said those words, and she turned away stiffly. Nino watched her and scoffed. “I’ve recently taken up these cool fighting classes. I have a contract with a sportswear company and they want to make a commercial, so I’ve been learning the ropes. Literally.” He rubbed his back like it had hurt him. “You know those ropes are hard, right? I’ve got bruises.” 

Marinette imagined the bruises, running up and down his muscled back, well-defined shoulders, chiseled abs. Or what she imagined they would be. The ads she had archived on her computer were most likely heavily photoshopped, but if there way anything even slightly real there, he was magnificent. 

“And how’s the love life?” 

Marinette wanted to smack him. 

Adrien laughed. “What love life?”

“There’s gotta be one or two girls who have caught your eye?” Nino leaned closer to Adrien in such a way that it forced Marinette’s shoulder into Adrien, who was resting against the bar. She could feel his breath rustling her hair and she gave Nino a death glare. He ignored her. 

“You and I both know that my one true love is unattainable.” Marinette’s ears perked up at this. Adrien had a crush? On who? Was it someone she knew? “Besides, she can do better than me.”

Marinette laughed to herself and said, just a little too loudly, “How?”

Both guy’s eyes went to her and she felt her stomach plummet to the floor. 

“Hey, Alya!” Her best friend looked away from her new bea from a couple of seats over on the bar. She straddled his lap while he rested his elbows on the bar. “Wanna come over here?” 

The urgent one must have read; Alya actually stood up and walked over. She plopped herself in front of Marinette and smiled coyly at the two boys around her. 

“Are you guys giving my girl trouble?”

“She’s giving herself trouble,” Nino laughed. Marinette smacked his arm and tried not to smile. 

“She does that pretty well, huh?” Alya made meaningful contact with Marinette and gestured ever so slightly towards Adrien. Her eyes asked if she had embarrassed herself and Marinette responded that of course she had embarrassed herself, she is who she is, there’s no helping it. Alya shook her head with what looked like amused disappointment and told her to try a little harder with the tilt of her head and the widening of her eyes. Marinette adamantly shook her head once. 

A silent battle raged between them as the three men around them tried to decipher when was being said. When Alya made the smallest kissing gesture and eyebrow waggle, Marinette had had enough. 

“Hey Felix, what is it you do again?”

“Write,” he said curtly, then sipped on his drink. The group paused to see if he would continue after the drink left his lips, but he stopped there. 

“Felix is working on his doctorate while baristaing at a local coffee shop. He’s really busy, but he was able to make it out tonight,” Alya explained. “Just for me.” 

They smiled sickeningly at each other and bumped noses. Marinette wanted to retch. 

“What do you do with your free time?” Marinette asked. In all honesty, she wanted to get to know her best friend’s boyfriend better, but he seemed to want to make it difficult. 

With a wry smile, he responded, “Write.”

Something twisted in her stomach when he smiled. He looked off to one side of her face, ever so slightly, and it set her nerves on edge. Instinctively, she touched her earrings, as if to make sure they were still there, and his gaze averted. 

“Is that all?” Nino chuckled. 

Felix shrugged. “Pretty much.” He look another long drag of his drink.

“No wonder Alya is so infatuated with you. You’re fascinating.” There was more than just a hint of jealousy in Nino’s voice. Alya was the only one who didn’t seem to notice the sarcasm. 

“I know, isn’t he great?” She kissed him on the cheek while his gaze was focused threateningly on Nino. They had their own silent battle going between them for a few seconds until Nino looked away. Felix smirked into his drink. 

“Oh dude, how did that competition for your design class turn out?” Nino asked Adrien. 

Marinette and Adrien looked at each other sympathetically and sighed. “We didn’t win, actually.” 

“No shit?” 

“Mari, why didn’t you tell me, girl?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I was kind of embarrassed, I guess. I mean we worked really hard on it, and we still didn’t win.”

“That’s life,” Nino said. He looked wistfully into his drink and sipped. 

“I’m not even really disappointed about the competition. I just wanted to see Jagged Stone.” 

“Girl, who doesn't? I would kill for a chance to meet him.” 

Marinette thought she saw a pointed look pass from Nino to Adrien, who still stood behind her, but she couldn't bring herself to turn around to see if it had been accepted. She was about to continue her conversation with Alya, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. 

She turned without a thought to look at Adrien. When she finally realized it was him who had wanted her attention, she nearly froze. 

“Yeah?” she said through a tight mouth. “What’s - um - what’s up?”

“Could I talk to you for a second?” He pointed to the corner of the bar relatively uninhabited by other patrons. Well lit, for the venue, and private, it felt a little ominous. He waited patiently for an answer while her head went miles a second trying to come up with a response. 

“Um- yeah, that would be cool, you’re co- yeah. That’s fine.” She shut herself up and started walking towards the corner before she could say anything more. She wanted to put herself in timeout. Only a literally child could behave like such a complete idiot.

As she turned to face him, she saw him looking over his shoulder to Nino, who was giving him a reassuring thumbs up. Her eyes went wider than she intended them to, and so she squinted slightly, but worried she was overcompensating, then opened them wide again. When Adrien turned to her, she couldn’t stop blinking. 

He tilted his head to the side. “You alright?”

“Yeah!” She scoffed. “Just - something in me eye.” She turned around for a moment and held her hand to her eye like she was trying to get something out. She wanted to slap herself, but she didn't think that would help the situation. When she turned back around, she had the most neutral face on that she could muster. “What’s up?”

“Okay, so I wanted to ask you, um…” The corner of his shirt lifted to reveal a godly portion of abdomen when he scratched at the back of his neck. Chiseled. Totally chiseled. Marinette thought she might actually begin to drool, but she contained herself and looked up to his face. Not his abs. Face. “So we were talking about the competition, and how we didn’t win and stuff, and I was just as disappointed as you. I mean, I really love Jagged Stone. He’s probably my favorite artist of all time. I mean, the way that he creates drama through the chords and lyrics, and all his sets and choreography, and-” he cleared his throat.

“Anyway. I looked into the Jagged Stone concert, and the tickets were almost completely sold out. However, I managed to snag a few, and I even got some backstage passes.” Marinette could feel her heart palpitating. “So I was wondering if you wanted to go?”

Was this actually happening? Marinette’s head spun and she felt like she either wanted to vomit or scream or both. Something was coming out of her. 

Adrien Agreste, the beautiful male model - the most famous male model to exist - was asking her to see a Jagged Stone concert. With him. And to meet The Man Himself. Was this what dying felt like? Was she finally ascending?

“I got tickets for Alya and Felix and Nino, too.” Record scratch. “I couldn't manage to get five backstage passes, but I thought we could all go together. Have some bonding time.” He laughed nervously. Why was he nervous? She was supposed to be the only nervous one here! “You in?”

She realized she hadn’t spoken in a concerningly long period of time. “Yes!” she burst out, way too loud. Some other patrons in the bar turned to look. “Oh my god, yes! That sounds amazing. Adrien!” She felt herself hugging him and told herself not to notice the way they fit perfectly together. “Thank you so much, Jagged Stone is my dream. I’ve been saving up to see him, and - you know, I’ll pay you back, of course-”

“No no no no. You don’t need to pay me back, that’s totally fine.”

“I don’t wanna owe you.”

“You’re not gonna owe me Marinette. We’re friends.” 

Friends. She was friends with Adrien Agreste. He wasn’t asking her out, which she figured she liked better than if she would have to impress him one on one. She wasn’t any good, really, when she was alone with him, as held to evidence by that very conversation. Going out with the group of friends would be good for them. And then she would go with him, just him, to meet her idol. She really couldn’t think of a better way to spend time with someone. 

“Right?” He asked.

“Yeah,” she smiled. “Of course we’re friends.”  
…..

“Alya, no!” Ladybug screamed, watching as the akuma ripped apart the city square. Almost everyone had been evacuated. Those who could afford it had taken shelter in reinforced cars and drove hectically away, but Alya and her reporter spirit kept her at the scene. 

She was hiding behind a little hatchback when the akuma, a massive being which grew with every life it absorbed, threw a bus in her direction. Ladybug watched as if in slow motion as the bus took over her body. She didn’t see it crash down on her as she was punched square in the stomach by the akuma. 

Her vision went blank, but she opened her eyes to see Nino and Adrien standing in front of her, concern plastered across their faces. The akuma lumped behind them, and they were ignorant of its presence. She screamed at them in a silent voice to turn around, see the akuma, run for their lives. 

They didn’t have to worry about her, they needed to save themselves. But they didn’t listen. 

She watched as they were ripped away from her, their mouths contorted in pain as the akuma ripped them apart. 

Others started spilling onto the street, too. Her parents leading at a trickle, they all walked to the akuma and were absorbed into it, making it bigger and bigger until it blocked out the sun. 

Ladybug sat and stared in horror as it grew. It looked over her and laughed maniacally. 

“It’s over, Bug,” it said, as if into her mind. 

It’s giant foot, the size of a minivan, rose into the air. As it smashed down on her, she startled awake. 

The darkness of her room encased her in solitude. The light coming from her alarm clock flashed 00:00 repeatedly, telling her that the power had gone out during the night. She sighed and reached for her phone, instinctively checking for any messages. An unknown number blinked on her screen, but she ignored it. There wasn’t any message, so it was probably a wrong number. 

She sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes, hard. Nightmares were commonplace for her, but it was strange for them to be so vivid. Mostly, she felt battered, uneasy, and worried about something she couldn't see or touch. They were frightening and vague, but not as bad as watching her friends get crushed by an akuma. 

After her father had died, she had nightmares for months, watching him die over and over by her hands. It was never the akuma’s fault in her head. She saw herself uplifting the telephone pole that crashed into his car and hitting him with it until she saw nothing but red. She saw herself watch passively from the side as he crashed. She saw herself point the akuma in his direction. 

The images plagued her, and she had many sleepless nights. But it had been years ago. 

These dreams came from a much different place. Outside of the guilt over her father’s death, she felt fear and weakness overtake her. 

She was Ladybug and she was the Superhero of Paris, but she didn’t know if she was strong enough, or if those closest to her were safe. She worried every time she heard about an attack. Her stress levels were through the roof when she thought about Alya tracking down akuma and trying to get close up pictures. And that someone thought she was weak enough to need help, to go out of their way to fix city systems to try to assist her somehow…

However grateful she was for the help, the fact that whoever it was prevented damage and death, she was offended by the assumption. It’s not like she was in over her head. She had everything under control, and she needed people to trust her. 

Tikki moaned and turned over on the pillow that she had set up to sleep on. Cookie crumbs were littered around the plush fabric, and Marinette reminded herself that she was gonna have to clean it pretty soon. 

Marinette laid her head back down on the pillow and watched Tikki’s tiny chest rise and fall with her breaths. She was glad the little god was getting sleep. 

She closed her eyes and listened to the distant sounds of the city outside her window, allowing the darkness to lull her back to unconsciousness.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marinette is scared and Alya is tipsy

Alya decided that the Core Four, as she so affectionately called them, were going to lunch that afternoon. Adrien and Marinette’s noon class had been cancelled, but instead of telling his father, Alya suggested that they grab food instead. What would it hurt to have a little fun? A day on the town? Grab a bite to eat?

Every euphemism that she thought of was used in the ensuing not-really-an-argument-because-they-all-knew-Alya-would-beat-the-subject-to-death-until-everyone-gave-in argument. Adrien finally relented after a prod in the ribs by Marinette, who just shook her head. There was no getting through to that girl. Prolonging the argument would bring more pain for all of them. 

They shared a moment of smiles that ended in Marinette blushing furiously and turning her head away. 

There had been a curious lack of akuma attacks in the last couple of weeks. Marinette had only had to transform twice, one of which only lasted about ten minutes before she was cleaning up the damage caused by Hammer Hands or whoever the akuma thought they were. 

It was refreshing to not push herself too hard to try and defeat the akuma. Her bruises had all but disappeared, and she hadn’t had to bandage any gruesome wounds in the past weeks. Thanks to Tikki’s magic, she was feeling much better, but it was curious that the attacks had waned. 

It was hard to complain when she felt the slices left by Siren weeks ago finally fading into scars. 

The attacks before that week had been killer, almost literally. She had checked in on Prea and her father in the hospital that week, and he was doing much better. He had several ribs removed, and the skin grafts were just beginning to heal, but he had much more energy. 

Prea sat on her father’s bed, and she ran to hug Ladybug when she appeared in the doorway. She was relieved that her father was okay. She couldn’t imagine a girl that young going through what she had. 

During the last few attacks, she had barely noticed the influence of whatever hacker was trying to help her. Perhaps her speech had had its desired effect, but she could still feel someone looking over her shoulder. She was careful to look out for any hint that they were still making a fuss over her. She thought she noticed security cameras turning towards her during fights, but she decided to ignore it. 

That Friday afternoon, the four of them sat down to lunch outside a little cafe close to campus. Alya and Marinette sat opposite the boys, and they both shared the most expensive thing on the menu, as they usually did. 

Marinette caught Nino occasionally looking longingly at Alya, and gave him pointed looks. He, in return, smirked at her whenever he caught her staring at Adrien. Her face was permanently red. 

“Where’s Felix today?” Adrien asked, breaking whatever tension was growing between Nino and Marinette. Their challenging stares were interrupted by a question they both had vested interest in. 

Alya sighed. “He has a chapter due for his thesis tomorrow, so he asked to be alone today to write. He gets really focused when he starts writing and researching and all that, so it’s not much fun to be around him anyway.” She took a long sip of her drink and smacked her lips. “So I rounded up my backups.”

A round of ‘ooh’s went around the table and Marinette smacked Alya’s shoulder as she giggled. 

“Rude,” Nino muttered loudly. 

“Not cool,” Adrien agreed. 

“Bitch,” Marinette laughed and stole a fry from Alya’s side of the plate. Alya stole one right back and munched on it smugly. 

“Whatever, I love you guys and you know it.” She turned her attention at Adrien. “And I’m not just saying that because you got us tickets to Jagged Stone. I mean, partially. But I mostly love you because it raises our group’s Hotness Quotient.” 

Adrien laughed uncomfortably, but Alya didn’t notice the tension. He looked down at his plate and took a bite of his meal. “Thanks, dude.”

“No problem, girl.” Alya took another sip of her drink. “Anyway, when are we going? I can pick us up or whatever and then drive to the stadium?”

Adrien shook his head. “I’ve got everything taken care of. I just need your addresses and I’ll pick you guys up. You don’t need to worry about anything.” 

The rest of the group nodded thoughtfully. 

“It’s really cool of you, bro,” Nino said, bumping shoulders with him. 

“You guys are my friends.” He caught eyes with Marinette across the table. She quickly looked away. Nino smiled knowingly at her. “It’s the least I could do.” 

Alya stood abruptly from the table. “I have to pee,” she stated loudly, and turned to find the bathroom. She was slightly - maybe a little more than slightly - tipsy, and stumbled over her chair as she began walking. 

Marinette laughed as her friend finally made it to the bathroom and pushed the door open with her foot. “She’s crazy.”

“She likes her alcohol?” Adrien sounded concerned. 

“She can take care of herself. She knows her limits pretty well. I’ve never seen her make a fool of herself, that is.” Marinette laughed into her own drink. Hers wasn’t alcoholic. “She’s actually saved me from plenty of embarrassment.”

Nino sat forward. “Ooh, what kind of embarrassment?”

A furious blush spread across Marinette’s face, “Nothing that you need to know about.” 

“I wanna know,” Adrien chimed in. 

“You don’t, trust me.”

The boys looked at each other. “No, we do.” 

“I don’t-“ 

A rumble that shook the table cut her off. They looked out into the square and felt the entire world go quiet as they listened for another rumble. It slowly grew in power until the silverware on every table in the cafe was rattling. 

Quiet, scared conversations began around the square as people filed into the nearest buildings to find shelter. They knew what was happening, everyone did, and they knew how best to protect themselves, thankfully. 

“Alya,” Marinette realized. 

“I got her. You guys go to the back.” Nino stood from the table and started towards the bathroom. Marinette wanted to be the one to go get her. It would be a good cover to transform and go fight whatever akuma was coming. 

“Wait, I-“ she was cut off as the akuma entered the square. All the attention was draw to the strange dark light of the akuma, and the crowd of people that followed behind it. Marinette felt a connection to the akuma, something pulling her in. It was dangerous, but comfortable. 

She forced herself to pull her attention away, but saw that everyone else in the cafe was still staring. Most of the people in the square had gotten away. They were safely in the back, where restaurants had fortified doors and walls to protect from collapse and attack. But there were perhaps twenty people around her that had focused solely on the akuma. 

Adrien stood beside her, and she saw his eyes slowly turn from bright green to a dark, smoking purple. 

Marinette looked around as quickly as possible, and found a place where she could transform without being seen. There was a small alley beside the restaurant, and ducked in, summoned Tikki’s power to surround her, and raced back into the square. 

The akuma moved slowly, but the crowd of people around her steadily grew. 

The people in the cafe were drawn towards it. She saw Adrien among them. The dream that she had been haunted by several weeks ago came to the front of her mind. She wasn’t going to let her friend be sucked in to the power of an akuma. 

Her yo-yo found its way around a building on the other side of the square, and she pulled, feeling the cord retract back into the casing of her weapon. As she flew across the square, she grasped onto Adrien to bring him along with her. 

The akuma didn’t react to her, and neither did Adrien. 

Ladybug brought him into an alcove between buildings were several cars and motorcycles were parked. She ducked with Adrien behind a car and pulled his gaze to hers. 

“Are you okay?” The purple smoke in his eyes didn’t clear. “Adrien!” 

A hint of green began to appear in his vision, and she saw him coming back to himself. For now, he would be safe. He was hidden, protected, and she could get her work done. She left him sitting against a wall between the buildings and peeked out to the square. 

The akuma drew more people towards it, the crowd growing, but it didn’t do much else. It moved slowly, and occasionally, as it stepped, a rumble emitted from it. 

There was little, if anything, to go on for fighting it, but she knew the longer she waited, the more minions it would pull into its grasp. 

Ladybug whipped her yo-yo to an opposite building and pulled, detaching mid-flight to land in the middle of the square. The akuma was square in front of her, leading an army of indoctrinated, purple-eyed people behind it. 

“Ladybug.” The crowd spoke as one. It was hard to make out the words, but it was loud, and the sound sunk its claws into her chest. “Give us your miraculous.”

She didn’t respond. Looking the akuma up and down, she saw the purple choker shining at the base of her throat. It must be the akumatized object. It would be difficult to get it off of her, but she had it identified, that was what counted.

“Your miraculous,” they said in unison. She didn’t flinch. “Now!” 

As one, they began flooding towards her. Hundreds of people under the spell of the akuma raced at her, claws out, ready to strike. 

Adrien watched from the alleyway as a horde of akumatized zombies attacked Ladybug. He didn’t know how he had made it to the alley, but he assumed it had something to do with her. Why she chose him over anyone else, he wasn’t sure, but it was lucky she did. 

Across the square, he could see his bag holding his computer sitting at the table he had vacated. If he had it, he would be able to help somehow. Tap into the cameras and see the akuma’s moves, maybe do some damage, as best he could. But he was in the sidelines now, watching. He wasn’t able to do anything without his computer. 

He cursed as he saw Ladybug begin fighting off the akumatized people that bombarded her. Knowing that they would feel her hits as soon as the akuma was purified, she didn’t go all out, but tried to incapacitate the victims as harmlessly as possible. 

There were too many of them. As she tried to take them out carefully, to prevent lasting damage, they ripped into her. She wouldn't be able to fight them all off by the time the akuma recruited more to its army. She needed help. 

He looked around the square, trying to find some way to assist her. Maybe he could throw rocks, try to get the attention of the akuma? But then he would be indoctrinated. He stared at the akuma for a second and felt himself being drawn in. Her eyes weren’t even directed at him, but he could feel them on him, telling him to come closer. He felt his throat close up, giving his voice over to her. 

Ladybug grunted loudly, and Adrien was drawn out of his momentary trance. Looking at the akuma would get him akumatized, he realized. Medusa, he called her in his head. 

Behind him was a black motorcycle with a helmet and leather jacket slung over the handles. The engine was still running, the humming getting his attention. The owner must have been part of the akumatized army now, but it didn’t really matter. He could see now how he could help Ladybug. 

He stuffed his head into the dark helmet and pulled the jacket over his torso, zipping it to his chin. He had never driven a motorcycle before, but he had seen lots of movies. The handle was the throttle. There was a break somewhere. 

Ladybug shouted in the square, and Adrien decided he had no time to teach himself about the ins and outs of a vehicle he had never touched before. He sat astride the bike and muttered a curse to himself before turning the handle. 

The bike shot out of the alleyway and drove directly into the crowd of akumatized victims. Those who heard the engine roaring turned their heads just in time to be barreled over by the incoming bike. Adrien lost control of the bike and it shot out from beneath him. He was just able to jump off of the seat when it tipped over and skidded across the ground, kicking up sparks behind him. 

He stood and faced the crowds of akuma, trying to ignore the stinging pain of road rash that laced up his leg. Every eye in the square was now trained at him instead of Ladybug. She, too, was staring at him, astonished, confused. 

He pointed to the akuma, which stood with the same look as his Lady, staring at him. “Get the akuma!” He yelled, and a crowd of akuma zombies overtook him. 

Ladybug glanced between the akuma and the person who rammed a motorcycle into the crowd of indoctrinated victims. Idiot, she screamed in her mind. He was gonna get himself killed. 

But there were too many for her to clear them out and get him to safety. She had to get to the akumatized item or he could be dead within seconds. Out of the corner of her eye, she kept tabs on him while she went to fight the akuma. 

Luckily for her, the akuma sucked at fighting hand to hand. The hoard of victims around her seemed to be her only defense, and with them largely out of the way, dealing with the motorcyclist idiot, she was able to get to the item quickly. 

Ladybug ripped the choker from the base of the akuma’s throat and cleansed it. The wailing of sirens in the distance accompanied the clearing of the indoctrination. Marinette bent down to where the akuma had fallen and asked her the standard questions, then let her know what had happened. 

She helped her to the incoming ambulance, and waved to the reporters who had formed a crowd outside the police lines. Without further fanfare, she leapt onto a nearby roof and pretended to disappear. 

But instead of going to detransform in a faraway alley, she ducked behind a roof and stared down into the crowd, searching for the person who had disrupted her fight. They had done exactly what she told the public not to, and had put their life on the line to try and prove some point that she needed help. Despite the fact that the fight was much easier with the distraction, they could have died. They could have killed someone with that motorcycle. So many things could have gone wrong. 

The police and the paramedics helped clean up the mess created by the akuma, and Ladybug watched the process. Nino and Alya walked out of the cafe and looked around, quickly being escorted to an ambulance to be checked up on. Adrien came out of nowhere and ran up to them to make sure they were okay. 

They all looked unhurt, thankfully. Alya had been jostled out of her buzz and was holding on to Nino’s arm like a vice. Adrien had some rips on the side of his jeans, and she assumed he had got them when they skidded into the alley. But they were all safe. She couldn't help but smile broadly. 

She watched them look around the scene, and Alya’s lips mouthed her name. Marinette cursed herself and found a nearby place to detransform. As the felt the transformation slip from her shoulders, the full weight of the damage done by the akuma fight hit her. She tried her best to not hurt the civilians who were attacking her. While most of the damage done to the surroundings and the akuma were reversed, damage to passersby and indoctrinated victims were less forgiving in the magical rejuvenation realm. 

So now it was her who took the brunt of the damage. Her leg had been broken during the fight, but Tikki’s magic healed it almost as soon as it happened. A punch to her jaw was going to bring a bright bruise across her cheek the next day, but it hadn’t formed yet. Her ribs were bruised. Scratches ran the length of her arms, and she was grateful she wore a long sleeved shirt that day. 

After taking stock of her injuries, she walked over to where her group had gathered. 

“Marinette!” Alya shrieked and threw her arms around her friend. Perhaps she was still slightly buzzed. “Where were you?!” 

“I got zombified,” Marinette lied. 

“Seriously?” Alya’s eyes went wide with excitement. “That’s so bitchin’ girl, you have to tell me about it!” 

She scratched the back of her head. “I don’t really remember it. What about you guys?”

“Alya and I hid in the bathroom until we heard the fighting stop,” Nino offered. “What happened to you, dude?” He hit Adrien lightly with the back of his hand. Adrien jumped disproportionately. He had been looking intently at Marinette, she noticed. She tried not to make eye contact, but couldn’t help but glance to his beautiful eyes. 

“I hid, too,” he said. His voice was off. 

“Good,” Alya stated, a little too loud. She broke off from the group and began walking away. “Let’s go home, y’all. I need a drink.” Nino followed along. 

Adrien stared a little too long at Marinette, and she looked at him quizzically. After a moment of silence, he turned away to follow the group.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marinette has a good day

Adrien’s driver honked the horn outside of her apartment, and Marinette peaked out the window. She shrieked to herself and sprinted back into her bathroom, where makeup was sprawled across the counter. 

“Tikki, he’s early!” She shouted across the apartment, even though Tikki was less than a foot away from her. She leaned in close to the mirror and tried to make the perfect wing to her eyeliner, but her hands were shaking. She took a deep breath and calmed her hands, focusing like she did when she was embroidering, then pretended like she was making a stitch on her face. With a little flick of her wrist, her look was done. 

She stood staring at herself in the mirror, second guessing every stroke of the brush that she had made on her eyes, cheeks, and lips. The bruise that she got from the akuma attack the day before was covered by thick concealer, but she worried about that spot constantly. The rest of her outfit was black, and she had to pull on jeans and some black heeled combat boots to finish the look. So her eyes were covered in just the right amount of black shadow and liner, and her lips carefully painted red. 

But was it too much? she asked herself. It was a Jagged Stone concert. No doubt people would show up looking much more grungy than she did, but she was also going out with her crush. Not just a crush. Adrien Agreste. Model. Who worked with beautiful women in flawless makeup on the daily. 

She kept staring at herself until a knock came at the door and she shrieked again, a little quieter this time. 

“Hide, Tikki.” She sprinted to the door, and managed to trip over the coffee table on the way over. Clumsily, she made it to the door and opened it wide. Adrien stood outside, smiling widely. 

“Sorry about the honk. My driver gets impatient. He doesn’t like knocking apparently.” He laughed good naturedly, and she giggled a little too hard. 

“I get it I totally understand drivers and all that I get it all the time. I’m almost ready, just give me a second!” She didn’t notice until she was back in her room that all she was wearing was a long sleeved crop top and fishnets. He most definitely noticed before she slammed the door. Marinette turned to Tikki, who was floating a short distance away and stifling a giggle under her hands. Marinette tried to scream with her eyes, which made Tikki laugh harder. 

“It’s not funny!” Marinette whispered, then collapsed back on the bed to pull on the ripped up jeans that were meant to go over the fishnets and the little strip of fabric that passed for underwear. 

“Why am I such an idiot?” she asked herself while she pulled on a pair of chunky black heels and grabbed her bag and her thickest coat. Though the days were starting to feel like spring, the nights were still frigidly cold, and she had to protect herself against them. But she debated with herself. It would be warm at the concert, and in the car. She would only be outside for a short while. 

With a passing glance out the window, which was just barely frosted over, she threw her coat on the bed and rushed out the door. The front door was open, and she was about to barrel into Adrien, when she remembered she forgot her bag wrapped in her coat. She windmill-ed her arms and turned around, crashed back into her room, and pulled her bag a little too harshly out of the pile of clothes, whispering a silent apology to Tikki. 

Finally, she was ready to go, and she turned back to Adrien, who had the same sly laughing expression that Tikki was teasing her with moments earlier. “Ready!” She announced a little too loudly. Without any more preamble, she marched out the door and down the stairs. 

“Uh, Marinette?” Adrien called from up the stairs. 

She turned. “Yeah?”

“Are you gonna lock the door?” Thus ensued another five minute search for her keys in the apartment, the ceremony of successfully locking her front door, and the triumphant march down the stairs. Her smug grin was wiped off her face when she stepped into the frigid air outside. Adrien seemed to notice her body collapse in on itself and chuckled beside her. “You okay?” 

She nodded and picked up her pace until she was in the car, where warm air was blasting through the heating vents. She noticed when she sat down that this wasn’t the usual town car that he was driven to school in. This was longer. This was…

“A limo?!” Marinette squeaked. Her voice was still frozen from her second long excursion in the outside world. She cleared her voice. “A limo?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “It’s the only car we had that would fit so many people comfortably. Why?” He cringed. “Is it too much?” 

He honestly looked worried that he had messed up. Like being so stupidly rich was some kind of bad thing. And that treating his friends was a crime. Sure, Marinette would be uncomfortable the entire time someone else spent money on her, but it was still cool to be in a limo. Alya would freak out. 

“No! Not at all. They’re gonna love it.” 

His shoulders released their tension, and a relieved smile passed his lips. “Good. I’m glad. I don’t want to be… I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Some people are think it’s flashy, you know. I don’t want people to think I’m trying to show off.” 

“I don’t think that at all. They won’t either. Promise.” She placed a careful hand on his hand and smiled warmly at him. “This whole thing is amazing. I can’t believe you got us all tickets. And backstage passes!” She was squirming the entire way to pick up the others. She was going to meet Jagged Stone. Not only go to his concert and bask in his glory, but actually shake hands. Maybe take a picture! 

“It’s the least I could do. I felt bad about losing the competition. I mean, it meant a lot to you, you know?” She hadn’t realized he had paid that much attention. 

“Adrien. It’s not your fault we lost. Our stuff was good. But someone else’s was better. Sometimes it happens.” She was reminded for a second of the feeling of defeat that accompanied the final decision of the competition. It was the same feeling she had when she thought she didn’t get the internship she applied for. It was the same feeling she had when she found out Adrien had taken steps to get her an even better job. “I never… I never actually thanked you properly.”

He was confused. “For what?”

“Oh. Um, for that job you recommended me for.” She wrung her hands together in her lap. “I know I was angry when I talked to you about it last, but I didn’t really think it through. I thought it was just your influence that got the job for me, but I think I made a pretty good impression. Thank you.” 

“It was nothing. Trust me. It was all you.” He smiled and she blushed. “How’s it going, by the way?” 

Her job was amazing, to say the least. She was the personal assistant of one of her heroes. Someone who ran a fashion company that was not only on the cover of every other magazine, but who has stores all over the world. And they were still growing. She was on the phone with important people in the fashion world every day. She even spoke with Adrien’s father regularly. 

“It’s… amazing.” Her eyes went starry. “It’s honestly better than I could have ever expected. I can’t thank you enough for sending in that recommendation. I don’t know what I would be doing without it.”

“Well, it might have taken a little longer, but you would have gotten where you’re going. You’re so talented, Marinette. You deserve to be recognized for that.” They shared a long moment of silence with nothing but smiles between them. 

The car jerking to a stop pushed them out of their trances. Alya was barging in the door a second later. 

“A LIMO?!”  
…….

The wait to get in to the stadium was longer than Marinette expected. Although she looked amazing - her eyes smoky but not racoon-y, her fishnets poking out of the holes in her jeans, her crop top showing just enough skin - she was absolutely freezing. She shivered violently, her arms wrapped around herself as tightly as she could make them. She tried to suppress her teeth chattering so her friends wouldn't get concerned, but it was too hard, and eventually she chattered anyway.

Alya and Nino were none the wiser. They were chatting up a storm about some of the latest music or pop stars or whatever they were obsessed with at the moment. Felix didn’t end up making it, despite being invited. He was working too hard on his paper, Alya said, and he had to stay home. Nino didn’t seem to mind. He stood a little too close for a friend to stand. Alya didn’t seem to mind that, either. 

Adrien and Marinette were standing beside them, mostly listening to the conversation but not really a part of it. Eventually, Adrien noticed that she was freezing her bits off and immediately became concerned. His eyebrows stitched together and his mouth formed a tight line. 

“Are you alright?”

She couldn't make words come out of her mouth. Instead she nodded and continued shivering. He saw through the obvious lie. Honestly, she would be more concerned if he didn’t see through it. 

“Here,” he said. He wore a thick coat that went down to his knees. It was woolen and looked like the warmest thing ever. He was just about to take it off when Marinette interjected. 

“No, Adrien.” She held up her hand. “You’ll be cold, too. I’ll be fine.” Her teeth chattering betrayed her. 

He looked trapped in between courtesy and respecting her word. “Fine. I’ll just…” He unbuttoned his jacket and went to stand behind her. He opened it wide and enveloped her in the warm woolen coat that felt like summertime. She was going to complain, but she was way too cold to do anything about it. Instead, she melted back into him as the crowd continued filing into the stadium. 

As they walked, she could feel the adrenaline from getting ready for the concert wearing off, and the injuries from the day before began to wear on her. Eventually, they made it into the stadium, and they found their seats near the stage. 

The entire thing was amazing. The stage was huge. It stretched across the entire expanse of the stadium, and was covered in thousands of lights. Marinette didn't even want o guess how much the whole thing cost, or how long it took to program the show. She just sat back and stared for a good long while, happy that the cold from outside didn’t linger as more people filled the stadium. 

Alya and Marinette were sandwiched between Adrien and Nino, but Marinette no longer was encased in Adrien’s coat. He had followed her to her seat, and noticed that she had a limp. 

Her leg was killing her, but she didn’t let anyone know. It had been broken the day before, and it felt like it. Only Tikki’s magic was keeping her together. Scratches and bruises were covered by long sleeves and copious amounts of makeup, and her drained energy was being funneled solely into watching the show. As soon as the music started, she knew she would feel better. It was only a matter of time. 

But his concern remained. “Are you alright?” he asked as they settled into their seats. Her expression bore her question, and he gestured to her leg. “You’re limping. Is everything okay?”

She brushed it off with a nod and a flippant laugh. “I’m fine. I just got a little bruised when I fought against Ladybug yesterday.” She had regaled them all of her fabricated tales of fighting the famous superhero, even though the indoctrination of akuma victims usually wiped their memory. They suspended their disbelief as she wove tales for them. She took out the part about the mysterious biker who had crashed into the crowd and caused civilians to get hurt. 

The akuma attack had happened quickly. News vans hadn’t made it to the scene by the time it was over, and there had yet to surface any home videos of the attack. By this time, the internet should be abuzz with news of the helmeted motorcycle hero, but the lack of news made Marinette think no one had got a good look at what happened. 

She chalked her limp up to getting kicked by Ladybug, who was trying to keep her from attacking. Adrien’s look seemed like he didn’t quite believe it. 

“Oh. Yeah. Are you sure? It looks pretty bad. Maybe you should get looked at?” 

His concern was appreciated. It really was. But she could look after herself. “I’m fine. I promise.” He nodded and relented. There was no use pushing it, especially since the opener had just taken stage. 

The crowd screamed, and for the next twenty minutes, they rocked out to a local band that Jagged Stone had offered a hand to. He had a reputation for discovering new talent, and he recently discovered someone there in Paris, who was now going to tour with him for the next three months. 

They were good, and the reaction of the crowd reflected that. All outside thoughts were replaced by the beat of the music, and Marinette felt the pain in her leg fade away. The bass took over her heart beat. The fun addition of the brass fluttered in her teeth. The twang of the guitar ran through her blood. 

Between the two bands, there was a short break in which the group chatted harmlessly. Adrien didn’t bring up her injuries, and she was grateful. 

When the lights faded, the crowd erupted. A voice shattered through the screaming, announcing the arrival of Jagged Stone. The crowd, somehow, got even louder. 

And when he took the stage, rising from a platform in the floor that was flooded with smoke, Marinette was sure her eardrums were going to burst, and she could not have cared less. She screamed along with the rest of the crowd. Her heart beat faster than when she was fighting akuma. Her eyes hurt with the sudden burst of light that flashed in time to the opening chord of the song. 

For an hour, she was completely lost in time to the music, and she couldn't be happier. She danced with her friends, and forgot that she was in pain. By the end of the concert, she felt better than she had in a long time. For weeks, months really, she had been under a crazy amount of stress. She felt it weighing down on her, more and more every day. But some kind of weight had been lifted.

While screaming along to her favorite songs, and dancing with a thousand other people, and jumping up and down to the beat of the music, she felt like a normal person again. When the crowds started filling out, Adrien directed Marinette to the stage door. Alya and Nino said quick goodbyes, then went to find the cafe that would be waiting to take them home. 

On the trip to the backstage area, Marinette started freaking out. She was about to meet her idol, her superstar. She didn’t know how many outfits she had modeled after his cool grunge looks, and how many of his accessories she had incorporated into her more modest looks. He was a muse, and she was going to have an entire conversation with him. 

There was a short line to get backstage. Glamorous people with spiky hair and made up faces and dark lines around their eyes were waiting impatiently to get to where they were going. They were wrapped up against the cold like Marinette absolutely wasn’t, and she felt like an absolute mess next to their cold, composed fronts. She also just felt cold. 

She started playing with her hair, mussing it and flattening it down again, partly out of her need to stay warm, but mostly out of her own anxiety. How was it supposed to look? She pulled her compact out of her purse and looked at her makeup, then pulled a eyeliner pencil out and relined her eyes. But that was too much, so she smudged it off and reapplied. When she was finished, she looked over at Adrien. 

“Does this look okay?” Her eyebrows were knit together. She could not have been more nervous. Adrien laughed when he got a look at her. That made Marinette freak out. “Oh no!” She hunched back over her compact and looked for any flaws in her makeup. But shouldn't it look a little carefree? She smudged the edges of a line to make her seem a little less put together, but still put together enough. It was impossible. 

“Marinette!” Adrien took her shoulders in his hands. Warmth spread through her. “You look perfect. You don’t need to worry about it. Jagged is less impressed with looks as he is by personality, isn’t he? And you’re amazing. He’s gonna love you.” 

She felt warmth growing inside her despite the frigid cold. And despite her nerves, she gritted her teeth, and with her friend at her side, met her idol.


End file.
